


Speed Courting

by Tellie_Vision



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Aphrodisius kinda has clown energy, Consensual Sex, Delu’seer and Cordia and Sera are only in chapter 1, Discordia is over-emotional, Discordia struggling with PTSD and other related things, F/M, Homebrew, Hurt/Comfort, I TRIED to make the smut MOSTLY wholesome but these two are such horny individuals, Idk how to tag anymore, Loss of Virginity, Mentions of Cults, Misandry, Rites and Magic Campaign, Romance, Self-Loathing, Sexual References, Suicidal Ideation, The pacing may be a little weird later on, a character with inverted nipples but it's not a fetish thing because I know what they're like, abuse mention/implication, binge eating disorder mentions, but the rest are full of it, courting, internalized fatphobia mentions, i’ll add to these later probably, lots of homebrew, mentions of cannibalism, smut is skippable also!, some of these tags are for later chapters, that's mostly cult stuff tho not really either of them, the weird stuff I mean, there isn't much shipping in the first chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 50,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27076918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tellie_Vision/pseuds/Tellie_Vision
Summary: Some backstory lore for the King and Queen of Ehmphyriat; King Aphrodisius has one night to convince Discordia, the handmaiden of his political rival—who he’s become infatuated with—to marry him... after having barely met him only one time prior. Discordia, on the other hand, is unsure of his intentions... but also very desperate, so she’s willing to entertain his offer.[The smut can be skipped! Only there because that's lore. Likewise, don't read this for the smut, it isn't meant to be all that great]
Relationships: Delu’seer Aybyhish/Concordia Aybyhish, Delu’seer Aybyhish/Seraphina Aybyhish, Discordia Eruta/Aphrodisius Callixtus
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	1. The Cult Leader’s Wedding Party

All of Delusia was in celebration. After what seemed like ages, Dread Queen Delu’seer and High Priestess Concordia had finally come to agree on a political marriage for the good of their kingdoms; the two kingdoms, Delusia and Rostille, would henceforth be known as Delusia-Rostille, a single unit representing the two leaders newfound unity.

The Dread Queen already had a wife in Concordia’s sister, the Dread Queen Seraphina, but it was known to all that she admired both twins equally and would only be satisfied once she held both. Sera’s opinion on the matter was much desired by the press, given her history with her sister, but her lips seemed glued shut. She simply watched the festivities in hard silence at Delu’seer’s side, just as she did for nearly every other event. 

At Sera’s side, however, was Delu’seer’s handmaiden, Discordia, who also seemed disinterested in the festivities. Or, perhaps saying she didn’t want to be there to begin with would be a better thing to say. 

Discordia hated crowds, people, and anything to do with social interaction; she’d much rather spend her time alone, or running around doing errands in honor of her beloved Goddess of Death Wishes and Dread Queen. The number of people in the room was making her anxious, almost in a claustrophobic way. 

Everything and everyone seemed too close. And everyone looked so much more fitting to be at the party than her! The people from Rostille were all thin and beautiful, with perfect bodies and faces; the people from Delusia were also obsessed with an extremely thin body standard, modeled after their archlich goddess. And, here, right in the middle of the festivities, right in the middle of all these beautiful, deserving people, was Discordia, who in Delu’seer’s words was, ‘built like a whale.’ She lacked a thin waist, instead having a fairly chubby stomach and wide hips. While this did also mean Discordia had a rather large bust, she found it wasn’t a very fair trade-off in her eyes. 

Her attention was brought out of her self-loathing by the large, golden doors swinging open to reveal the last expected guest; he was late. 

Standing before the Dread Queens—and now Discordia—was Aphrodisius Archimedes Callixtus, the King of Ehmphyriat and, as the son of Aphrodite and Dionysus, the Minor God of Allure. 

“Aphrodisius. You’re late.” Delu’seer sounded unamused. 

The king bowed his head, “You see, I was _busy_...”

Discordia’s eyes shot to the floor as the king began to explain his lateness to her irate charge. She had always considered him very handsome; she wouldn’t say she had a CRUSH on him, as affectionate feelings towards popular figures is a normal occurence, but she would be lying if she said she’d never fantasized about his touch. A small blush crossed her face as the thought fluttered through her mind again; the way his hands would feel as they traveled the surface of her skin, the way his body would feel pressed tightly to hers with nothing in between...

“Discordia!” Delu’seer snapped, smacking the back of her startled handmaiden’s head; she had hoped Delu’seer wouldn’t catch her in her daydreams. 

“What have I told you about this disgusting behavior?” The dread goddess looked furious and understandably so. It was part of the religion she had established that men were inferior and should be purged, while women were pure and holy. “Countless times, I have seen you express weakness, express... WANT, in the presence of swine! Are my punishments not harsh enough? Why do you defy your own Goddess so strongly?” Delu’seer grabbed Discordia by her chin, looking into her eyes as if trying to paralyze her with fear... and it felt like it was working, at least to Discordia. 

Tears welled up in the chubby handmaiden’s eyes. This had happened before—funnily enough, in Aphrodisius’ presence. She had “drawn his attention” when he once made a political visit to Delusia and Discordia had been punished harshly for it. Truly, though, she hadn’t realized she’d done anything to capture his gaze and believed Delu’seer had just been looking for a reason to make her repent for a smaller sin. Maybe she was mad that Aphrodisius had said nice things to Discordia while she was working up the courage to present her newest experiment...

Discordia would almost prefer to identify herself as Delu’seer’s whipping doll rather than her handmaiden, as the guardian archlich always seemed to have it out for her. But, Discordia understood. She was weak; useless, even. Not good at anything. And even if she was attracted to women, she was still attracted to men, too, which negated whatever praise she would earn for the former... well, that and the fact that the woman she was most attracted to currently was Seraphina...

“I-I’m sorry,” Discordia stammered, embarrassed that she’d been caught in her daydreams. She didn’t dare look at the handsome king who was surely still watching, afraid of the look of disgust that was probably set on his face. Discordia couldn’t imagine what he probably felt, seeing someone as pointless in existence as her fawn over him.

Delu’seer opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted. “Delu’seer,” Concordia spoke up, resting a gentle touch on her new wife’s shoulder, “Spare her; she cannot help the... pity she feels for men, even if they are sinful in your eyes.” The Demigoddess of Love’s Light seemed sympathetic to Discordia’s plight. She seemed, however, very excited about something, defying the soft tone of her voice; it was there in the depths of her emerald eyes, but Discordia couldn’t look long enough to guess. 

Delu’seer whipped her head around, letting go of her handmaiden, but seemed more exasperated than mad. “Cordia! You do not understand the sin of these swine!” She seemed almost pleading, “Discordia has been afflicted with this vile fascination with them for so long, it must be purged!” 

“Does it really matter to you if you won’t let her express her interest in them  freely ?” Cordia spoke with a hint of challenge in her voice, but Delu’seer looked unconvinced. The demigoddess waited for a few seconds before speaking again, “At least let her go for my sake.” She sighed, seeming tired of the argument already. Her sister simply continued to watch on in mildly interested silence, pleased at the show she was receiving for pointing out Discordia’s subtle lusting. 

“Though, in marrying you, I am taking it upon myself to reform you, remember.” Cordia spoke sternly, “One day, I will make you see the flaws in your viewpoint and this will all be a thing of the past.” 

Delu’seer rolled her eyes at the sentiment of “reformation” and stayed silent for a few moments, then turned back to Discordia, clearly unwilling to debate her religious beliefs with Cordia. “Remove yourself from my court for the night; you are an embarrassment at my side.” She spoke as if she was aggravated by Discordia’s presence, pushing her handmaiden away. 

“Y-Yes, of course, My Lady!” Discordia nodded and bowed to her, blinking away tears. This was very merciful of her Lady and she was very thankful. She quickly hurried away to hide, relieved that she had been spared from both Delu’seer and the crowd.

King Aphrodisius watched her run out of sight; he allowed his charming smile to drop to a more neutral expression, but, really, he was pissed. Half the reason he even accepted the invitation to come to the new Delusia-Rostille was to ask Discordia why she hadn’t answered any of his letters; he had started sending them the second he got home after first seeing her present in Delu’seer’s court during a previous visit to the kingdom. 

She seemed very inventive, much like himself; she had interrupted their political debate to present her leader with an enchanted item of her creation. A failure, but she had great potential and seemed far too sweet to be wasting away as the handmaiden to an abusive “Goddess”. Aphrodisius found himself fascinated with her, but never got a chance to truly speak to her due to Delu’seer barring her subjects from interacting with men unless absolutely necessary. 

The purpose of those letters was to court Discordia, but she never responded; Aphrodisius suspected Delu’seer may have been intercepting them and preventing her from receiving them, especially now that he saw how strongly she reacted to Discordia’s fidgety gaze on him. 

A gaze that looked like want. If he could just get her alone, she would surely be all his to take. He was confident in his ability to win her over—his own skill aside, there were no cons to this situation: he got a brilliant wife and Discordia was saved from the horrible torment of Delu’seer and her cult. But, then again, that gaze of want could just be a natural side effect to his presence--as the Minor God of Allure, he tended to have an... alluring aura around him. He made sure his former partners, in any respect, were not under the effects of his magic before doing anything with them, though and that same rule would apply to Discordia. He'd have to check for that unconscious influence once he got in range of her.

Certainly, Aphrodisius could have anyone he wanted as a partner, easily, but he needed someone who could match his wit—Discordia was the first person he’d seen that showed potential to, so his interest was piqued. She was the one--she had to be.

“Now,” Delu’seer began, “with that out of the way—“

“Thank you for coming, Your Majesty,” Cordia interrupted her wife, earning her a glare from Sera. 

“You are too respectful to this disgusting defiler of women,” Delu’seer sounded aggravated as Sera nodded in agreement. 

Aphrodisius bit his tongue and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was ALWAYS like this with Delu’seer. She hated men, but it seemed her hatred for him specifically burned much stronger. Yes, he slept around—but what did it matter? It was all consensual! As if she could shame him for his sexual escapades when she herself had slept with almost every single woman in Delusia MORE THAN ONCE! WITH HER  WIFE PRESENT FOR IT!

“Thank you, Concordia,” Aphrodisius ignored Delu’seer’s comment, “Nice to hear that you remain respectful despite marrying the biggest threat to humanity on this planet.” His words carried a hint of venom to them, despite his sarcasm. Really, he couldn’t believe Concordia would betray him like this—throwing away Rostille’s alliance with Ehmphyriat, all because she suddenly decided she was in love with their greatest enemy? It was ridiculous! 

“Delu’seer will be humanity’s savior!” Sera snapped, furious that her wife and goddess had been so rudely insulted. “She is the one true goddess and you,  swine, are a FOOL to stand against her!” 

Delu’seer rested a hand on her more wrathful wife’s shoulder. “Sera, darling,” She spoke softly, with a gentleness reserved only for her most beloved associates, “Do not waste your breath on him; he is not worth your time.” The lich ran a skeletal hand through the taller woman’s hair, which Sera leaned into. 

Aphrodisius made a mental note that Cordia’s face was screwed up, like she was offended by what she was seeing... this was his chance to break away and look for Discordia. 

“Why bother getting married if you’re just going to be jealous of your wife’s already existing wife?” He spoke loud enough to break Sera and Delu’seer out of their moment. Cordia looked surprised to be called out and glared at him as Delu’seer turned to her, distressed at her wife’s discontent. Sera seemed beyond pleased to have upset her sister. 

“Concordia!” Delu’seer threw her arms around her wife’s neck, “Do you truly feel neglected? Why didn’t you say anything?” She pleaded, suddenly worrisome. The anger and irritability she held moments ago had vanished. 

Aphrodisius saw Cordia mumble something in response, but couldn’t tell what she said; either way, this was prime time for him to escape the conversation. 

He snuck off in the direction Discordia had ran and found himself in one of the handful of rooftop gardens set up around the castle. The apple of his eye was sitting, alone, on one of the benches, focused on a hefty looking book; she didn’t appear to notice Aphrodisius’ presence. 

_Well, here goes nothing_


	2. The Rooftop Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aphrodisius finally can properly introduce himself to Discordia... but he doesn’t do the greatest. Nonetheless, she still agrees to let him impress her.

Discordia was happy to be out of the court. Now all she had to do was wait until the party was over so she could go home. However, until then, she had some things to look over in her Book of Shadows. 

She pulled the large book out of a satchel she’d had on—Sera had reprimanded her for it before, saying it didn’t fit with her outfit. It didn’t matter to Discordia, though, considering SHE didn’t even fit IN her outfit. The small black dress felt painfully tight almost everywhere on her; it reminded her of her teens when she used to wear her corsets extra tight to hide her weight gain from her mother.

_Mother_ _..._ Pain filled her chest at the thought of her. She opened her book—she couldn’t think of her mother, or her death, now. 

Discordia flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for—notes for her experiment, the Choker of Decorum. She pulled a quill and ink from her satchel and started jotting down notes—that the enchantment was working with no errors, that everything seemed perfect. It made her happy for the moment... it wasn’t often she was able to perfect her failures like this. 

She fiddled with the choker on her neck, double-checking to make sure small disturbances didn’t disrupt the magic imbued in it—it didn’t. It really did seem like there was nothing wrong with it... it amazed her. She recorded the result. 

“It’s awfully dark out for someone to be out here alone,” a deep voice spoke up, causing Discordia to jump up and slam her book shut with a surprised shriek. When she turned to confirm she’d really heard who she thought she did, she was shocked to see King Aphrodisius standing before her. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you, Miss Eruta.” The king took off his hat to bow to her. Discordia assumed he knew her name only because of her blue hair—a color of lock reserved only for the Eruta family, descended from the witch Moon Goddess Andred.

“Y-Your Majesty! I’m so sorry for disrupting the court, please forgive me!” Discordia fell to her knees, pleading for forgiveness. Delu’seer would’ve lashed her had it not been for the kindly Cordia, but nothing was stopping the king from punishing her as justly as she should’ve been. 

Aphrodisius rose an eyebrow at her. “What are you on your knees for?” He approached. “This isn’t  that kind of meeting, darlin’.” He chuckled to himself as he caressed her cheek with a hand, before moving it to lift her chin.

Discordia rose to her feet, her face bright red. She looked down at her feet in embarrassment before speaking again. “I’m sorry—“ 

She was cut off by Aphrodisius’ finger pressed to her lips. “Why are apologizing? You’ve done nothing wrong.” He soothed, resting a hand on her shoulder. 

Discordia could only stare up at him with wide eyes. “Why did you follow me out here?” She paused. “I-I mean, Your Majesty—“

“Hush with this ‘Your Majesty’ thing, I will have none of it from you.” Aphrodisius tapped her on the nose lightly. “You may call me whatever you like, angel.” He clasped both his hands around one of her own, pleased to see her blushing. “Now, to answer your question: to be honest with you, I’ve had my eye on you for quite some time.”

“What?” Discordia interrupted, in disbelief at what she was hearing. “But, I’m just a lowly handmaiden! What about me was enough to catch the attention of someone like you?”

Aphrodisius grinned. “Your brain.” He answered plainly. “Trust me, lovely, you’re a beauty on your own, but what really sets you apart from all my suitors and temporary attachments is your wit.” He poked her forehead for emphasis. 

“My wit...?” Discordia looked to be trying to recall a memory. “But, the only time you would’ve seen me before tonight is when I showed my Choker of Decorum to Our Lady Death and that was a disaster!” She was somewhere between confused and distraught. Of all the things that could’ve happened tonight, Discordia would’ve never guessed it would be THIS. 

Aphrodisius chuckled. “It may have been imperfect, yes, but, you have potential...” He glanced down at her neck and pointed, “... and that lovely choker of yours seems to be working correctly now, hm?” 

“I... I suppose.” Discordia stammered, nodding slowly.

“You’re too hard on yourself. Making something as intricate as that is no easy feat. Delu’seer doesn’t give you the credit you deserve.” Aphrodisius bent his knees to be eye level with her, “You have a brilliant mind and you deserve to be shown praise and love for it; which is why I’m here.”

Discordia rose an eyebrow, “What are you suggesting?” Her body language suggested she was nervous; and she was. It had been YEARS since anyone had been as kind to her as Aphrodisius was right now. If he was suggesting some sort of romantic endeavor, she wasn’t sure how to respond; she definitely was attracted to him, yes, but she couldn’t say she was in LOVE with him after speaking to him for two minutes! 

“Have you received any letters lately, Discordia?” The king asked, standing up straight once more. 

“I haven’t received a single letter since I began working for Our Lady Death.” Discordia’s answer held some degree of suspicion in it.

“Your cult leader of a queen must be intercepting them then, as I had theorized.” Aphrodisius huffed. “Then, I suppose I shall explain my purpose—“

“You can’t speak of the Dread Queen like that!” Discordia interrupted, looking mildly panicked, as if HEARING him speak ill of her queen and goddess would cause her to be punished... and Aphrodisius wouldn’t have doubted it. 

“No offense, darlin’, but I don’t understand how you can worship someone like Delu’seer. Don’t you see that she’s unreasonable?” 

Discordia remained silent, simply shooting her eyes downward. It was true that Delu’seer was harsh; but surely those she was harsh to--including Discordia herself--deserved such punishments!

“Discordia,” Aphrodisius sighed and tried his best to show more sympathy to her. “She’s hurting you. You’re not happy here and you know it. Why do you stay?”

Discordia was silent for an odd moment, but then managed to whimper, “I have nowhere else to go.” She cried easily. It was embarrassing to her, but she couldn’t help it. “I used to live by myself, free of any religion, with...” her voice faltered, “my husband, but... he... vanished.” Discordia’s tears were running more freely now as she recalled the pain of him suddenly not being there; she still couldn’t wrap her head around the situation. “I can’t live on my own. I’m too... weak. I wouldn’t make it.” Discordia shook her head. “I’m not even close to the fiery pageant queen I used to be.” She almost shuddered at the thought of her past. Cold, cruel, sadistic... she had once been all of it and she regretted it immensely.

Aphrodisius suddenly felt horrible for making her think of something so painful, especially if it made her cry. He had just wanted permission to court her, how could he have allowed himself to get distracted! Though, the detail about a former husband surprised him. She was only 25, wasn’t she? That must’ve started and ended fairly quickly...

“I’m sorry,” He apologized, “I didn’t mean to open any old wounds.” He wanted to hug her, but he suspected she might not be open to any close contact with him yet—especially with Delu’seer’s propaganda floating around somewhere in her brain. 

Discordia wiped her eyes, smearing her eyeliner but leaving the two long black streaks down her face intact—tattoos. “It’s okay. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I know you and Our Lady Death don’t think well of each other.” 

“Please, don’t be upset,” Aphrodisius attempted to calm her, resting his hands on her shoulders. “I should’ve been more respectful to your beliefs... even if we have differing opinions. I should’ve expected you to defend that... lich.” He moved his hand to run a finger down one of the black marks on her face. “You were not always a Delusian, though... these are Marks of Baphomet, no?” He rose an eyebrow. He didn’t know much about any of the weird religions they had in Prudence—where Discordia was originally from—but he did know a fair bit about cult markings. “What made you lose faith in them?” 

He regretted asking that question immediately. 

Discordia tensed up, her breathing suddenly quick, and her eyes widened in fear. 

_Something horrible must have happened to her in relation to Baphomet; Gods, Aphrodisius, what is wrong with you today? You can sweep any man or woman off their feet in minutes, but when it comes to the woman you want to court, you do nothing but upset her! That’s two for two! Do something!_ Aphrodisius berated himself internally for his blunders; he was never this sloppy! He should’ve known better than to ask such trivial questions! 

Without much thinking, the king pulled her in close to him, wrapping his arms around her in hopes of soothing her panic. It was probably painfully awkward, but he wasn’t sure what else to do. “I’m sorry, I promise I won’t ask about your past anymore if it upsets you...” He tried his best to comfort her, rubbing her back as she clung to him, wracked with sobs. She was saying things, but they were spoken too fast and too strung together for Aphrodisius to hear them. Something about betrayal... something about her fault... and something about death. 

Discordia, on the other hand, was experiencing a tumultuous mix of embarrassment and pain. She was making a fool of herself in front of the charming and handsome King of Ehmphyriat! Surely her breakdown would be seen as a waste of time! But, yet... he seemed to be patiently waiting for her pain to subside; for her memories to fade back into the dark from whence they came. She hoped he wasn’t uncomfortable with her being like this, clinging to him like a fool. 

Her past just made her ache. It hadn’t been Baphomet’s fault, either, as she had screamed at the goat-like deity before disavowing them. 

Discordia tried to regain her composure, pressing the side of her face against Aphrodisius’ chest. His heartbeat seemed much calmer than hers... “I... I’m—“

“Shhh,” Aphrodisius stroked her head, “It was my fault. I’m not sure why your past upsets you, but it’s fine if it does. We don’t have to delve into it.” To be honest, he WAS curious, but he knew better—he could wait. He also wasn’t sure how well he was handling her and it made him a bit nervous; he’d never encountered anyone with such strong emotions before. 

“It... it’s alright...” Discordia mumbled, shaking a bit still. “Thank you for the... hug... also...” She suddenly sounded so weak... it broke Aphrodisius’ heart. Something inside her was deeply wounding her and needed to be resolved; it fueled his desire to have her further. If he could get her out of Delusia, perhaps this turmoil would be easier for her to process.

Yes, in Ehmphyriat, she would be showered with riches and praise. She would be shown compassion. Aphrodisius was confident that the union would benefit her in that way, even if he couldn’t win her heart and it was simply a loveless arrangement. Discordia needed a healthier environment, either way. 

They stayed silent in the embrace for a few minutes, before Aphrodisius released her and broke the silence. “Ah, as I was saying before my mishap... I have a proposal for you, if you’d still have me.”

“Of course,” Discordia nodded, though she suddenly felt cold out of his embrace and longed to feel his comforting arms around her again. It helped more than she thought it would. It had been so long since she’d felt the warmth of a hug...

Aphrodisius put on a smile once more. “As you know, I am the sole ruler of Ehmphyriat,” he began, “I told the world I would only take a queen if her wit matched mine.” He saw Discordia’s eyes widen a bit—she already knew where he was going. 

_Smart girl..._

“Discordia, darlin’,” Aphrodisius took her by the hand, “I’d be honored if you would return to Ehmphyriat with me for courting. You have a gift; you’re special. I’ve never felt the pull I feel for you before... I would be a fool not to try to have you to myself.”

Discordia was shocked; this couldn’t be real! She was just a handmaiden—not even a good one at that—and now the most powerful king alive wanted to marry her? 

“You’re asking me to marry you?” She spoke in disbelief. “I don’t believe this.” The handmaiden took a step back, looking away from the king before her. 

“Yes,” Aphrodisius nodded, “and you are free to decline if you would rather stay here... but I don’t see why you would.” When Discordia stayed silent, he continued, “If you agree, you will have access to the most advanced equipment in the world as well as the kingdom’s full wealth of knowledge; I can give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of if you give me the chance.” He stepped towards her. “You would be loved and respected by all, as you should be. If you fear the Delusia-Rostillian response to your choice, know that I would protect you with every breath I have.” 

Discordia seemed conflicted. “I... don’t know about this.” She looked back at him. “How do I know you’re not just saying all this to get under my dress? I’ve heard a lot of specific things about you, Aphrodisius.” 

Aphrodisius nodded. “You have every right to be suspicious; I will not deny my reputation. But, to you, I am speaking the full truth.” He offered her his hand. “Just give me the rest of your night and I’ll prove it to you.” 

Discordia looked at his hand, unsure if she should accept his invitation. A part of her wanted to jump into his arms, but another part worried about the risks—if she was caught, she would surely be tortured for her sin.

But, wouldn’t it be worth it? Maybe being tortured was worth just one night of being fawned over by an extraordinarily flirty king. It had been so long since she’d had any type of fun...

Tentatively, Discordia rested her hand on Aphrodisius’. “Please, don’t make me regret this.” She looked up at him warily, an anxious fog trapped behind her eyes as she did.

“You won’t,” The king beamed, squeezing her hand. “Now,” he looked back towards the ballroom, “I’d say our best course of action is to get out here—what do you think?” 

“Please,” Discordia nodded, brightening up a bit, but not enough to mask the desperation in her voice, “I think I’d feel a lot less nervous without the threat of a Delusian catching us and reporting me.” She smiled shyly, laughing a bit awkwardly as if she was trying to make a joke out of her less than ideal situation. 

“Wonderful,” Aphrodisius pulled her close. “Now, leaving through the ballroom would be a mistake. Hold on tight.” 

Discordia didn’t understand what he was trying to convey to her, but she complied by wrapping her arms around him tightly. She felt her heart start to race when she felt him scoop her up in his arms. In that moment, though, she found herself a bit surprised--how was he so good at this? She certainly didn't have any spell on her, she would've felt it--well, she didn't have an actual _magic_ spell on her, she supposed, so it struck her as both odd and amazing that he could sway her mood so easily... her head and her heart went to war for a moment, but then decided to wait until later to finish their dispute so Discordia could focus on... clinging. As if it wasn't already what she was best at. 

_The other acolytes always said I was too heavy_... I guess they were wrong. After all those years with the Delusians, it truly did surprise her that Aphrodisius had nothing to say about her weight. Unwanted commentary on her size had been most of what she’d been hearing for a long, long time. 

“I hope you aren’t too afraid of flying.” Aphrodisius smirked, much to Discordia’s amazement. He was... just a bit weak to be carrying her, but he was determined to both impress her and make her happy. Likewise, he’d seen her mother’s work with her modeling it and he thought she looked much cuter the way she was now, so making her upset about her perfectly fine weight was not part of the plan. Sure, he could’ve just given her the temporary power of flight, but that wouldn’t be romantic! 

“You can FLY?” Discordia’s eyes were wide with wonder. 

“My magic, inherited from my grandfather Zeus, lets me take control over the wind and storms,” Aphrodisius boasted, “of course I can fly.” With that, the wind began to pick up around them and, soon enough, they were both floating above the ground.

Making sure to keep his grip on his new date, Aphrodisius slowly flew over to the edge of the garden and glanced down at the large drop to the street below. He pressed his lips to Discordia’s ear to murmur, “This might feel like falling, but don’t be afraid; I’ve got you.” He had no choice but to go straight down, since doing anything fun would increase the chances of a Delusian spotting the two leaving. This would probably make “flying” feel more like a very slow jump from a very high place.

“Mhm...” Discordia nodded and clung to him a bit tighter. She wished he’d murmur in her ear more, his voice was very calming in a way. 

It did feel like falling and she definitely felt her heart drop into her stomach, but Discordia simply closed her eyes and tried to focus on thoughts of the man holding her instead. She didn’t get long to think, though, before Aphrodisius was setting her back on solid ground outside the castle.

Discordia beamed, “That was amazing! Why haven’t I heard about you being able to fly before? If I could fly, I don’t think I’d ever walk!” It was clear all of the gloom had been pushed out of her by the experience.

“It’s not as fun when you’re the only person who can do it,” Aphrodisius shrugged, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I am the only sorcerer with my type of magic, after all.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Discordia nodded. “It must’ve been hard for you to train your powers then!” She sounded like she was in awe—which Aphrodisius liked to hear. 

Aphrodisius puffed up like a bird trying to impress a potential mate, “Only for a bit. I’m a fast learner.” The prideful king could feel Discordia looking at him like she didn’t entirely believe that and he sighed, “I suppose I did get a  bit of assistance from the Lord of Olympus himself...”

Discordia giggled when he seemed to suddenly deflate. “You’ll have to tell me how that was. I study different types of magic in my spare time, I’d love to study you.” 

Aphrodisius rose an eyebrow at her and suddenly Discordia regretted her choice of words. “Oh, I’d enjoy it if you studied me, too.” 

“You know how I meant it!” The handmaiden flushed red as the king grabbed her hand.

“I know,” he chuckled, “but I enjoy teasing when I can. Now, we should be off, we're wasting moonlight standing around here—I have a place we can go to in mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Discordia backstory hints were thrown in there, though if you’re here from Twitter you already know what happened to her. But anyway, I should mention, if you couldn’t infer it, Aph is a (powerful) storm sorcerer. And I know their exchange here is kind of awkward; I wanted it to be clear that Aph is in a hurry to get the hell out of there since he can't really flirt with her there. Don’t have much else to add other than that!


	3. The Restaurant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aphrodisius takes Discordia to dinner, as is normal for any courting-related endeavor. He learns a little more about her as a result, and vice versa. His growing curiosity in her work and beliefs, though, will be pouring forth a wealth of painful knowledge very soon...

“Do you really power the city all on your own?” Discordia seemed to be feeling a lot better now. It was as if all her bundled up sadness had been replaced with questions. “How does that work?” Questions she’d always wondered but never gotten the chance to ask. She was so distracted with her questions, in fact, she had forgotten how long they’d even been walking, Aphrodisius guiding her by her hand all the while. 

As for Aphrodisius, this was somewhat of a risky question to answer—if she agreed to marry him, there would be no harm in explaining his work; if she were to refuse, she could give secrets to Delu’seer that could cause his entire kingdom to fall. 

However, he had to show that he trusted her. 

“Yes,” he answered. “Lightning possesses the ability to be used as a very strong power source, that is if you can harness it.” Aphrodisius paused to look at Discordia, who was still staring at him in awe. He continued, “my magic functions mostly the same as natural lightning, so it can be used as a power source as well. I recall shooting off a bolt in anger when I was in my teens and being fascinated by how, unlike other forms of magic, it flowed  through most objects rather than just hitting the surface.” 

“So, is that why travelers always mention your kingdom being full of strings?”

“They’re called wires.” Aphrodisius corrected. “They help the electricity generated by my magic reach where power is needed.”

“What are they made of?” 

“Copper, mostly. Encased in a soft plastic, which is also covered by rubber.” He answered. “The electric currents run best through metals and are repelled by rubber most strongly; the encasings keep it from going wild all around the kingdom.” 

“Oh...” Discordia thought she got it by then. “So, these,” she grabbed his hands, which were masked with thick, elbow-length rubber gloves, “are so you can’t use your magic on accident?”

“You truly do have the quickest wits in the land,” Aphrodisius praised. “Next to mine, that is.” He smirked. “But, yes. To prevent accidents when I’m working and accidents that might occur when dealing with world leaders less competent than the likes of you and I.”

Discordia blushed at his compliment and moved to walk beside him again. “So, you must only take them off to power the kingdom, then. Or fight.” 

“Correct.” 

“And, to power the kingdom, you must have some type of central metal structure that all the wires are connected to?” It was an educated guess.

“Correct again.” Aphrodisius smiled. “Your Queen wastes your talent. You’re picking up on this quick, you really should have much more authority.” 

“You don’t have to compliment me, really,” Discordia’s face was only growing more red. “It’s not that hard to understand.” 

“You’d be surprised at some of the looks I get when I attempt to discuss issues with the system with my court.” Aphrodisius sounded a bit exasperated. “But, to elaborate on your previous statement, it’s properly referred to as an electrode and a very large one at that, built to handle unthinkable amounts of energy. I have to stand up there fueling it for hours in order to light up the city.” 

Discordia rose an eyebrow. “I would’ve thought you had some type of invention to repeat the current further down the line, so it would fuel itself.” 

Aphrodisius’ eyes widened. “No... but, that’s a brilliant idea!” He turned quickly to grab her by her upper arms, “Do you know how much time that would save me?”

Discordia looked at him, a bit bewildered. “... a lot?”

“A ton!” Aphrodisius exclaimed, “I’ll have to work on putting together concepts for such an invention the second I get home!” He paused and leaned in to press his forehead to her’s. “That is, after marrying you, of course.” 

Discordia was quick to resume blushing. “H-Hey, I... I haven’t agreed just yet!” She didn’t, however, break away from him. 

“Perhaps,” The king spoke softly, “but, I’m certain you will.” He smiled, “I’d love to have an inventing partner who’s actually capable.” With that, he pulled away from his flustered date. He looked up at the building they were standing in front of and was pleasantly surprised. “Ah, we’re here.”

Discordia was confused. “Where?” She had forgotten they were actually going somewhere and not just idly walking. 

“The most expensive restaurant in Rostille,” he held an arm out to it for dramatic effect, “or, well... Delusia-Rostille now.” 

Discordia’s eyes widened. “You don’t have to do this! I ate before I came!” 

Aphrodisius simply grinned at her. “I doubt the food in that underground cathedral is any good. I imagine it’s been some time since you’ve eaten somewhere fitting to your tastes.” 

Discordia glanced away from him before letting her gaze settle on the ground. “... Well... you may have a point. I will admit, the cook in the cathedral is good, but they couldn’t hold a candle to what I used to eat back... then.” 

Swiftly rescuing the conversation from getting steered into Discordia’s past, Aphrodisius piped up, “then you’ll love it here!” He grabbed her by the hand and led her inside, where the woman attending the desk seemed surprised by his presence.

“Your Majesty! We... we weren’t expecting you! Or any royalty, for that matter!” She seemed stiff, almost like she was afraid of him. 

“Table for two, please.” Aphrodisius didn’t seem to care if the staff was prepared or not. 

“Yes! Of course! I... wait a minute...” The woman suddenly narrowed her eyes at Discordia. “Isn’t that the Dread Queen’s handmaiden? I thought Delusians—“

“Is there a problem?” Aphrodisius seemed irate. That was probably fortunate for Discordia, who was clinging tightly to his arm. If anyone here reported her...

“I apologize, Your Majesty, but Delu’seer is a queen of Rostille now, too. We could get in trouble if we don’t inform her of this sin against—“

Discordia felt ill. Not even Aphrodisius would be able to save her if Delu’seer caught word of this and it was sounding like she would. She glanced up at her date and was a bit surprised to see how furious he looked.

“Delu’seer will hear NOTHING of this,” He wasn’t speaking angrily, but you could hear tension in his voice, as if he was holding back a storm. He set a large sum of money onto the desk in front of the attendee, who suddenly seemed a lot more willing to keep a secret. 

The woman was silent for a bit and then nodded slowly. “You were never here.”

“Good.” Aphrodisius spoke, his low voice almost making it sound like a growl. Discordia was quickly discovering just how much she loved that man’s voice; there was something in it that sent shivers down her spine every time he spoke too close to her. 

Aphrodisius grabbed her hand to lead her into the dining area—he always picked his own table--but Discordia stood stock still. "W-Wait, are there candles or torches back there?" She seemed extremely nervous, but he couldn't comprehend why.   
  
  
"Of course, why wouldn't there be?"  
  


"I can't go back there if there are." Discordia's response was shaky--was she that afraid of candles, or was she afraid of his response to something most people considered stupid?   
  
  
Aphrodisius was puzzled, but he nodded. "Wait here." He went into the dining area, leaving Discordia to watch his shadow reflected on the walls, wrapped around the glow of flame that made her feel sick to her stomach. Then, a gust of wind suddenly burst through the room, startling the attendant and making a mess of her hair, but thanks to her enchantment, Discordia's appearance remained in perfect condition. _Huh, another test passed!_ With the gust of air, the yellow glow of light was extinguished and was soon replaced by an unnatural green glow, accompanied in its presence by an odd crackling sound.   
  
  
"Come!" Aphrodisius called, "I've replaced the candles."  
  
  
Discordia entered the room to find he had done something to the chandelier; a current of lightning was circling around it over the bases where the candles were supposed to sit, lighting the room dimly with its aura.  
  
  
"There is only a 60% chance that will, at some point during our time here, violently explode." Ah. That was comforting. Discordia hesitantly approached him.   


“Are you alright?” Discordia piped up quietly, stopping once she was beside him. "You seemed upset."

Aphrodisius sighed. “Yes. Perfectly fine.” He paused. “But, I’ve been waiting to meet you for a very long time. It pains me that fate would still try to ruin my plans.” 

Discordia hugged him. “Well, we haven’t been caught yet... technically... so, you have nothing to worry about.” She smiled. "And thank you for..." she looked back at the chandelier, "that." It felt weird... she was never optimistic. Maybe Aphrodisius’ allure made those around him happy when they weren’t directly under its affects. 

Or maybe she was just being won over that quickly.  _I’m still not sure_ _,_ Discordia defended herself,  _he’s sweet, but I still need more proof of his intentions..._

The king offered a small smile. “I can't say I understand what the issue with candles is, but you're welcome.” He pulled out a chair for her before releasing her from his embrace and taking his seat.

Not long after, a waitress made her way to their table and dropped off the menu, looking anxious as ever. Discordia couldn’t blame them; if Delu’seer knew they were pretending to forget the detail that she was there, they would surely be put to death for their transgression. 

“Do you know what you want?” Aphrodisius’ voice pulled her from her thoughts. 

“You didn’t need much time to think.” Discordia was a little surprised how quickly he knew what he wanted; she always had trouble deciding what she would limit herself to, since the binge eating disorder that plagued her wanted everything and she would have little say in the matter once she took her first bite. 

“I always come here when I’m in Rostille,” Aphrodisius responded. “I’m not surprised you’re having trouble picking something, everything is good.”

“Well, that didn’t really narrow it down much,” Discordia turned her eyes back to the menu after shooting Aphrodisius a mildly amused look.

There was too much to choose from! She quickly wrote off all things sweet—she wasn’t in the mood for dessert. But, then again, chocolate dipped strawberries seemed nice...  _That’s not a meal, though!_ She thought to herself angrily. 

Trying to focus on the more dinner-oriented options, she set her eyes on seafood—specifically, lobster. She had grown up in Prudence eating mostly lobster, fish, and apple-related dishes, so surely she HAD to order lobster! And maybe also the crab, with extra butter. But, there were also so many different soups, all sounding amazing in their own right, maybe she could just get—

“Discordia?” Aphrodisius was waving a hand in front of her face, “Do you want anything to drink?” 

Discordia glanced over to see the waitress had returned, still anxious, waiting to take whatever drink orders they had. She assumed Aphrodisius had already gave his. 

“Do you have, uh, apple raspberry wine, by chance?” She asked awkwardly, hoping for a “yes.” 

“Well—“

“If you don’t,” Aphrodisius piped up, “make it happen.” He had a certain look in his eyes, like they were making some sort of silent threat to the poor woman waiting on them.

Discordia was unsure what it meant about her as a person, but she couldn’t help but find it attractive in a way. Aphrodisius always got what he wanted, no matter what; it was admirable.

_I wonder if that same rule applies to me?_ Discordia felt her face turning red at the thought.  _I don’t think I’d mind if he were just a little more aggressive with his approach, actually..._ She wondered if she could make that happen; perhaps it would be a good idea to come just a little bit more out of her shell...

“Thanks, doll,” Discordia managed to sum up the courage to be just the slightest bit flirtatious. 

“‘Doll’?” Aphrodisius interrupted, raising an eyebrow, “never heard that one before, but I’m not complaining.”

“I don’t know what I would’ve drunk if they didn’t have that; unlike everything else in my life, my specific tastes couldn’t be burned away.” Discordia laughed awkwardly at the dark joke. Aphrodisius probably wouldn’t get it, though, he didn’t know about—

“Burned?” The king’s eyes were suddenly wide. _That's why she wanted to get rid of the candles!_ “I could tell you were from Prudence, with that funny little accent of yours, and I’m familiar with your mother’s work, but I didn’t know...” He trailed off, noticing Discordia’s expression change to one of deep sadness. He scolded himself internally for bringing up the old wound again, but maybe this time he could do a better job of helping her. 

“Do you... want to talk about it?” He warily suggested. “I know it’s my fault it keeps coming up and I said I'd try not to bring it up, but maybe it would make you feel better?”

Discordia looked down. “I don’t know... it’s painful. And it was my fault.” Tears started to well up in her eyes and Aphrodisius reached out to squeeze her hand. She tried her best to repress the memories that threatened to come back to the front of her mind.

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault,” Aphrodisius offered. “And even if it was, we all make mistakes; well, I rarely do, but we’re talking about non-godly beings here.” He chuckled softly. 

Discordia glanced away. “I’ll tell you when we’re completely alone.” She could tell the abrupt change in the conversation’s direction was surprising to him; that, or he was excited at the implication that she wanted to be alone with him at some point, which—in his mind—probably held other implications in itself. And maybe it did; she had given that any serious thought before, though.

Aphrodisius nodded. “That’s fine by me, lovely.” 

Discordia smiled at him warmly. “Thank you.” She wanted to say more, but the waitress returned to the table with their drinks—the wine for Discordia and for Aphrodisius... grape juice?

“Are you ready to order now, Your Majesty and... ah...” The poor waitress wasn’t sure how to address Discordia, especially not under Aphrodisius’ hard stare. “His partner?” She seemed relieved when Aphrodisius looked to find that response satisfactory. 

Discordia blushed a bit, but didn’t correct her. 

“Yes. I’ll have the usual, with the addition of an apple custard pie for dessert, this time.” Aphrodisius was quick to make his demands known; a trend in his behavior Discordia had noticed. 

The waitress turned to Discordia and she nervously answered, “I’ll have the... lobster... with extra butter. Also, whatever special you have for soup. A-And the crab cakes. Oh, and also the apples and cream salad.” 

The waitress quickly hurried off with their orders without another word, as Discordia lamented internally about allowing herself to lose control and order half the menu. It was such an awful habit! 

“Are you really that hungry?” Aphrodisius seemed surprised. “I thought you were adamant that you were full, do they have a food shortage in—“

“No, I just eat too much.” Discordia glowered at the menu in front of her as if it was a cursed object. “It’s a bad habit, I know. I’ve always had it. My mother used to scold me for it all the time.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that!” Aphrodisius put his hands up in defense. “I’m just surprised.” He took a sip of his juice and Discordia saw an opening to question him about it.

“No wine for you?” 

The king rose his eyebrows at her as he brought the glass down from his lips. “No alcohol, period.” He shook his head. “My father is Dionysus, remember, so I have a predisposition to alcoholism; I would rather not entertain that life choice.” 

“That makes sense.” Discordia nodded. “I don’t know a whole lot about the Greek pantheon, but I’ve heard Sera talk about them before.” 

“I could teach you about them,” Aphrodisius offered. “Or, at least the ones Ehmphyriat has a preference for.”

“Which would those be?” 

“Dionysus, obviously; he’s most important to us.” Aphrodisius began, “also, Semele Thyone—my grandmother, you probably know of her—and Aphrodite.” There was a certain bitterness in his voice when he spoke the Goddess of Love’s name.

“Your mother?”

“The one who birthed me and named me after herself, yes, but was still too busy to spare me more than one glance my entire life.” It would appear that Aphrodisius had a few mother-related issues of his own. That was interesting to hear from someone who presented himself as without flaws. 

“That’s terrible,” Discordia’s face showed only sympathy. “Seraphina used to tell me her mother was the same way; Venus, who I believe is just... a knock-off version of your mom?”

That got a little laugh out of Aphrodisius. “Knock-off version, ha... I suppose.” He shook his head lightly. “I don’t care all that much, really. I turned out fine under the care of—primarily—my grandmother.”

Discordia wanted to challenge that statement; to tell him it sounded like he DID, in fact, care. Yet, she kept her lips sealed. If he trusted her enough, he would surely open up to her more. She hoped he did—that would be enough to prove his intentions with her, considering he never showed any vulnerability to anyone. 

“My mother said she was one of her most important clients,” Discordia decided to steer the subject slightly, “your grandmother, I mean.” 

“That she was,” Aphrodisius nodded, “and I, briefly.” When Discordia seemed surprised, he continued, “The cape was a commission from her.” He pointed at the more elegant part of his surprisingly un-regal attire. “I hear it was one of her last works before...” the king noticed Discordia starting to grow uneasy again, so he let the sentence trail off. 

“You... you’ll have to let me see that cape of yours later.” Discordia smiled, but it was weak and dull. 

_She must really miss her mother. I can’t imagine what I’d do if my favorite person in the world was burned alive... especially if the details of that horrific death were covered up to the rest of the world._ Aphrodisius’ eyes widened a bit.  _Does she know that? When I requested her, the officials in Prudence told me she had passed of old age..._

“Aphrodisius?” Discordia seemed nervous. “Is something wrong? I’m sorry I asked.” She had her head lowered, like she was afraid he’d scold her or something worse--probably conditioned in her by Delu'seer. 

“Oh, no, no, no, darlin’,” Aphrodisius quickly reassured her, “I was just thinking; you will most definitely be allowed to inspect my cape later!” Discordia was surprised to see that he almost looked... nervous? Was he... afraid of upsetting her? 

The silence that followed was uncomfortable. Aphrodisius cursed himself for causing it, while Discordia wholly thought that she was the blame. 

A few minutes later, the waitress returned with their food and quickly hurried off; something told Discordia that Aphrodisius must get his meals for free. 

Before digging into her large meal, Discordia queried, “you just got spaghetti?”

Aphrodisius shrugged. “You expected something more grand?” He rose an eyebrow, amused. “My food doesn’t need to be fancy to satisfy me.” 

Discordia stared at him, blinking, before realizing he was probably flirting with her—he certainly recovered fairly quick from any awkward situation he found himself in, she noted. She wished she could say the same for herself. 

“I-Is that so?” She managed to laugh nervously, not used to having this type of attention. The very concept of a powerful king even wanting her to begin with was so foreign to her and difficult to wrap her head around; it felt like a dream. Even her own former husband hadn’t expressed any type of sexual interest in her when they were together, so to be lusted after was an interesting new experience. 

However, the sexually-fueled comment didn’t help Aphrodisius’ chances; it just made Discordia more confused. She WANTED so badly to believe his intentions were pure and loving, but at the same time, how could she put faith in someone renowned for sleeping with basically everyone? 

Even so... the more rash part of her still leaped up at the idea of being the object of his affections, even if just for one night. Mustering her courage again, she dared to flirt back.

“Well...” Discordia glanced away, “I’ll have you know... I might fancy a bit of fine wine.” Her face was red, so it was clear that she wasn’t used to being like this with anyone.

Aphrodisius thought it was adorable. 

“Then you’d be pleased to know that I am one of the finest,” His response was almost like a purr rolling off his lips. Though, Discordia was unaware of the turmoil brewing in his own head. 

Aphrodisius had a bit of a hard time controlling himself; most of the time, it didn’t matter much to him. However, considering he wanted to ROMANCE Discordia rather than just hook-up with her, it was definitely an issue. His brain practically screamed at him to keep his less than savory thoughts to himself, to suppress his addiction, but it was almost like his body was on auto-pilot, making stupid decisions that would only make him look like he wanted to use her. Luckily, Aphrodisius was good at keeping his problems on the inside, so even if he was upset, Discordia wouldn’t see it, he hoped. 

Her response was to just giggle. She wasn’t experienced enough in any way to think up a good response. After taking a couple more bites of her food—which she had been eating between their flirting—she piped up, “thank you for this again, doll.” 

Aphrodisius swallowed what was left of his spaghetti before answering, “of course; you deserve a decent meal and I will only allow you the finest.” He set his empty plate to the side and pushed the apple pie toward the middle of the table. “I thought you might like to share this with me.” 

Discordia smiled, “are you sure you won’t eat the whole thing before I even get to touch it?” She poked fun at the fact that he apparently was a very quick eater. Faster than her, to her surprise, but maybe that was because of the quantity of food they’d both ordered.

“I may eat fast, but I don’t have much room for food,” Aphrodisius answered, “so, the pie is safe. At least half of it.” He started cutting the dessert while Discordia watched, munching on the last of her crab cakes. 

“I didn’t know they had apple pie in Ehmphyriat. I thought it was a northern thing.” She commented after swallowing the last piece. A part of her felt pressured to finish her meal, so she was probably stuffing her face without realizing it; all that she had left was the soup—which would be gone quick for sure—and the salad. 

“Oh, it is.” Aphrodisius nodded. “I’ve never had it before, but I thought you might like it.” He continued when she looked surprised, “I’m welcome to trying new things.” He shrugged. “Though, now that I think of it, we don’t really have much for, ah, regional desserts in Ehmphyriat...” he rubbed his chin in thought, “except for gelato.”

“I’ve never heard of that before.” Discordia was met with a look of shock from the king, who was quick to respond to her.

“Oh! I’ll be certain you get a chance to try it once you’re settled, then.” His smile held a confidence Discordia had never seen in any other person before; he was VERY sure she would run off with him. In a way, it was sort of cute. He probably didn’t notice, but he was almost too confident--so confident that it sometimes made him look like an idiot despite his _very_ apparent intellect. 

Not that he was an idiot for thinking she’d marry him; she definitely was still giving it thought. 

“I’m sure it’ll be better than all of Delusia’s signature dishes,” Discordia laughed awkwardly, “consisting of wine mixed with Our Lady Death’s sacred fluids or blood... or both, sometimes... and, for her insides only, human flesh.”

Aphrodisius seemed surprised—not at the cannibalism, he knew about that. “Oh? So, her fluids are “sacred” now?” He seemed to think that was hilarious, “if I called MY fluids sacred, would that increase my chances of winning you over?” He grabbed his cup of juice as he finished.

Discordia laughed, “I’m not sure,” She quieted her laughter, “I suppose it would depend on if I was swallowing them.” 

Aphrodisius choked on his grape juice, taken off guard by the quick change in her mood, which delighted Discordia. Teasing the apparently un-tease-able was the most fun she’d had in a long time. She took a slice of the pie to eat as the king collected himself. 

“You truly are unpredictable,” Aphrodisius chuckled awkwardly, embarrassed that she’d been able to beat him at his own game, “I can never predict what you’re going to throw at me next. I like that.” 

“You’d better, if marrying me is your goal!” Discordia beamed, making quick work of her slice afterwards. 

Aphrodisius smiled back at her as he finally started eating his own slice. “This isn’t too bad.” he rose his eyebrows, like he had been nervous about what to expect. “Nothing like the stuff we have at home, though.”

“You can’t expect a dessert to compete with things loaded with herbs and spices!” Discordia defended the pie, mocking offense. 

“I can compare standard food to standard food, though.” The king protested, amused. “I’d bet you wouldn’t say that if we were eating a Delusian speciality.” 

Discordia opened her mouth to fire something back, but closed it abruptly. “...I guess I can’t argue that.” She paused. “But, I can argue that you can’t compare a religion-based kingdom to a a non-religion-based kingdom.” 

“Is that something your leaders teach you?” Aphrodisius rose an eyebrow. “That seems more like an easy way to excuse the inhumane activities they regularly participate in.” 

“You wouldn’t understand,” Discordia explained, “everything in Delusia happens the way it does for a reason. Only those inside the kingdom are truly enlightened to their purposes.” She seemed a bit proud—Aphrodisius was almost disturbed by it, but what he gathered from his brief research on cults was that she was likely brainwashed. 

Then, it hit him—madness. Could it be that the Delusians were afflicted with some form of frenzy or madness? THAT was something he knew about! Dionysus had a power like that—the power to drive people mad in his presence, whether it be with inspiration or less savory things. Aphrodisius’ own allure was a lesser version of this effect, he believed. Perhaps Delu’seer had a similar effect on _her_ subjects? He’d have to investigate the theory further. 

“Maybe you could make sense of it to me, then? I know I spoke lowly of your beliefs before, but perhaps if you enlightened me, they’d make more sense.” He knew she wouldn’t change his mind, but learning more could make testing his theory easier.

Discordia suddenly seemed nervous. “I... I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she stammered, “we’re really not supposed to interact with men at all, let alone explain our beliefs to them.”

“You’re already sinning by being here with me; there’s no harm in speaking when you’re already tainted.” Aphrodisius pressed.

“Oh, don’t remind me,” the handmaiden sounded guilty. “I will certainly, and justifiably, be put to death if Our Lady Death finds out about this.”

“She won’t,” Aphrodisius promised. “But you’ve confused me—I thought dying was the goal of the Delusians?” 

“There are two kinds of dying,” Discordia answered swiftly, “a death that is holy, in which we will spend our afterlife untwined with Our Lady Death’s very soul; and a death that is unholy and the consequence of sin, where we will be killed and cast out to be fed upon by the forest, our souls forced to wander the material plane in agony for all eternity.” 

“...Interesting.” Aphrodisius nodded after a moment of silence. “That makes the way you cul—acolytes, I mean, act make sense. Or, more sense than I thought prior to learning this, that is. I still don’t understand why you people crave death so badly.” 

“Freedom,” Discordia answered plainly. “Freedom in its most ultimate form. It’s why I try so desperately to win Our Lady Death’s favor.”

Aphrodisius was bewildered. “You... spend all of your days suffering, slaving over experimental enchantments... so that she’ll kill and eat you?” Discordia nodded as if this was not the thinking of someone delusional and he continued, “Discordia, your brilliance has so much more worth than that! You don’t have to sacrifice yourself for validation of your work!” 

“There’s more to it than that.” Discordia seemed to be bothered by something. “But either way, as I said before, I am a failure. My existence in this world is a testament to that, for if I was a worthy mind, I would be in Her afterlife already.” 

Aphrodisius shook his head. “No, no, no, no!” He protested, “don’t you see? Your beliefs, Delu’seer, she’s just taking advantage of your suffering to validate her own delusional ideology!” Discordia didn’t seem to understand, so he pressed on. “Show me your work—all of it, your failures, I’m sure they’re not that bad.” 

Discordia was alarmed at how desperate he sounded; he made it sound like she was in some type of danger. It made her uneasy; she’d never really thought of the Delusian system as odd before and if she did, Sera was always there to reassure he doubts. 

“I... I only have my notes here,” Discordia explained, “the projects are in Delusia.” She spoke apologetically, but Aphrodisius was too worked up for his own good to let the situation die there.

“Take me there, then.” He spoke without fear. “Your leaders are all busy here, surely it won’t be too difficult to sneak me into the cathedral for just a while.” 

Discordia’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Aphrodisius! That’s still a death sentence if we’re caught! That’s too dangerous, I can’t—“

The king stood up from his seat and put his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her with near the intensity he’d stared down the poor attendant at the desk. “Nothing is too dangerous for me,” a fierce determination shown in his eyes, “and as long as you’re at my side, you will be safe. I promise.”

Discordia felt breathless under his gaze, her heart quick, but not with fear. She was amazed—it was clear to her now why he was so well-respected by seemingly everyone. He was very intimidating when he was upset... and perhaps even more attractive, also. 

Her eyes darted around as she prepared to make a hasty decision. She met his eyes again and let out a shaky sigh. “You... y-you promise everything will be fine if I take you there?”

Aphrodisius was surprised at how nervous she sounded, then realized how he probably sounded. _That damned temper of mine!_ He cursed to himself as he removed his hands from her shoulder and instead offered a hand out to her. 

“Yes,” He regained his composure and it was clear he was embarrassed that he’d gotten so worked up. “I apologize for frightening you, I didn’t mean to—“

“I wasn’t frightened!” Discordia interrupted, seeming almost frantic to correct him. “Don’t be sorry! I should be honored to get the chance to show my work to someone as talented as you. The risk is worth it!” 

“Oh, don’t justify my outbursts, it’s a prob—“

“You didn’t persuade me, Aphrodisius.” Discordia protested, “You cleared my mind. Is that one of your powers?” 

Aphrodisius blinked. “...No?” He seemed a bit flustered. “Are you sure I didn’t scare you, because I—“

Discordia grabbed his hand and pulled herself up in order to press a finger to his lips. “Yes. I’m sure.” She spoke softly, hoping it might calm him a bit. “I... trust you. I don’t doubt that I’ll be safe with you.” She was half-lying. There was definitely a part of her that was horrified, but seeing how determined and strong he looked in that moment had inspired her to try—and if fate allowed them to live, maybe that was a sign that their union was meant to be. 

Aphrodisius seemed to relax. He cleared his throat before starting to resume his pompous, cocky attitude once more. “Good.” He seemed to puff his chest out a bit. “You shouldn’t, I will decimate anything that threatens you. I promise.”

An amused smile curled on Discordia’s lips. “I’m sure.” She squeezed his hand a bit. “Now, we’d better get going before I decide to change my mind...” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favorite chapter so far, which is funny because I got writer’s block at the start of the dinner part and almost redid the entire chapter and made them do something else instead. Next chapter will have more Delusia lore in it so it will probably be a little depressing... 
> 
> Sorry for the wait on this also! Redoing Dissy’s reference sheet was distracting me, writer’s block aside.


	4. The Infiltration of Delusia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discordia and Aphrodisius go to Delusia to look over Discordia’s failed experiments—they get distracted and discuss there feelings instead.

“Please tell me you know how to navigate this nightmare of a forest?” Aphrodisius groaned in annoyance once the pair reached the edge of the Whispering Wood, marking the beginning of Delusia’s territory. 

The journey there had been much more wondrous than the king presumed venturing through the forest would be, given how previous visits had gone. Coming from Rostille meant crossing over part of the ocean separating it from Delusia, which took roughly 45 minutes—and that was with the gift of flight, which Aphrodisius had bestowed on Discordia to make the journey easier. She was just as awful at flying as she was fascinated with it, though, so Aphrodisius was already tired from preventing her from accidentally killing herself during the learning process. 

“Of course. Though, it might do you better to be more patient, Your Majesty.” Discordia smirked, pulling him along as they finally entered the forest. After her endeavor into flying, she was feeling a little extra confident. Aphrodisius had told her she did pretty well for her first try! 

It was too dark for Discordia to notice her comment had flustered her much taller companion. “Wonderful,” Aphrodisius coughed, trying to pretend that she hadn’t got to him yet again. “It always takes my court of fools HOURS to traverse this mess.” He recounted in his head the numerous amount of times his court had ended up getting him lost on political trips to visit the Dread Queens. It was comparable to being trapped in a well with only a bunch of fish to help you with getting out.

“You just don’t know what you're doing.” Discordia’s answer was strangely casual for the personal attack Aphrodisius took it as. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The king stopped to narrow his eyes at her, but through the darkness, she probably couldn’t see him do so. She might’ve been able to tell he was aggravated by his tone, though. 

“You’re not connected to the forest like the Delusians are,” Discordia explained. She still seemed to have a confident air about her, so she must’ve been able to tell after all and was impressed with her ability to upset him. “The forest sees us as a part of it, so it protects and guides us.” That was technically true. The more accurate truth would be that the forest was an actual part of Delu’seer and vice versa, so the Delusians that inhabited it would be protected and guided because, through worshipping and protecting Delu’seer, the Delusians were also worshipping and protecting the forest; thus, the forest was kind to them specifically. It was a symbiotic relationship of sorts, but Discordia couldn’t say that. 

“Oh, I see.” Aphrodisius nodded and picked up his pace to catch up with Discordia before continuing, “so, it just hates everyone else?”

“I wouldn’t say it hates anyone,” Discordia pondered the thought, “just wants to protect itself from threats.” 

“Threats like what? Or, do you mean threats to the Delusians?” Aphrodisius questioned. “Because I know last time I tried fighting in Delusian territory—“

“—The forest took down your machines.” Discordia finished for him, having heard the story from Delu’seer’s perspective when it happened. “But, yes, threats to the Delusians do count as a threat to itself and that’s a good example.” She answered his question before adding, “I would also say what would be considered normal threats to normal forests count also?” Discordia sounded unsure, but it would only make sense.

“So, it would become physically upset if it was, say, set on fire?” 

Discordia turned to him. “I assume so. Delu’seer doesn’t allow fire of any kind anywhere in the kingdom and I’m sure it’s not out of kindness or respect for me. It must be out of respect for the...” she trailed off as she noticed a root snaking along the ground behind Aphrodisius.

“The forest?” Aphrodisius clearly wasn’t aware of the imminent danger he was in. 

“Yes! And I think it remembers you!” Discordia exclaimed, pointing over his shoulder at the root, which was now poised to strike. 

Aphrodisius looked back to see the threat and quickly tried to jump out of the way, but only managed to move enough for the angry tree to strike his arm instead of his back. He let out a harsh sound through his teeth as he was knocked to the ground by the blow, clutching the spot of his arm that was now scraped open.

_Well_ , he thought, _trying his best to hide his pain, that was embarrassing. Excellent work, Aphrodisius, you look like a fool!_

“Aphrodisius!” Discordia cried out and rushed to his side, “are you bleeding? I can—“

“You might want to deal with the tree first.” Aphrodisius winced in pain as the handmaiden tried to fuss over his arm, which he was intent on not letting her see right now. 

Discordia turned to find the tree sending out more roots and branches to stop them—or Aphrodisius, at least. It was clear it wasn’t going to stop until he was... taken care of. 

“S-Stay right there, I have an idea!” She stood up and faced the furious forest, though only she held the knowledge that she wasn’t the best in combat. 

At least not anymore. 

“I’m not sure I can do much else,” Aphrodisius chuckled, almost amused that she’d considered him just getting up and leaving. “I still have a free hand, though, let me help—“

“No!” Discordia interrupted sharply, “Our Lady Death will be able to feel your magic through the forest, and then she’ll know where we are!” Her voice was full of desperation, “just hang on, it won’t take me too long! I... I think.” 

With that, she reached her hands out and began to channel her magic into the tips of her pointer fingers, in order to draw out a sigil from which she could access the magic field; if she could just get it drawn properly with her shaky, nervous hands, she’d be able to open a wormhole to her room and they’d be safe!

But the work of a witch is no easy task. Sorcerers and wizards would make the claim that the witches’ methods were dated and unreliable—they were probably right. However, like all witches proud of their craft, Discordia ignored these claims; more “modern” magic users didn’t understand the benefits and unique powers the witches possessed from working with this “old” and “outdated” method. Failures were much, MUCH worse than average, yes, but successes... successes were always much better. 

With her magic, blue and cold, Discordia drew out her signature circle—an intricate, snowflake-like design—and assigned ten points to it. This wasted more time, but she needed the extra precision and potential for power. 

The trees had been continuing to torment Aphrodisius in the background, while she was busy focusing on her complicated spell-casting. He was doing his best to avoid being gored, but with one arm down his balance was a bit off and he was getting tired of having to hop around like an idiot every ten seconds. 

He chuckled nervously, “Ah, ha, don’t you think you could speed that up a little bit, darlin’?” Another branch lashed out at him as he spoke and he just about got caught, being too distracted watching Discordia. He’d never seen a witch at work before and it was fascinating to see such a rare, old form of magic at work. Now, if only he wasn’t dealing with the threat of being killed...

Discordia was too focused to hear any of Aphrodisius’ complaints. After a few more seconds, she finished drawing her sigil and the magic began to bend and materialize into something else—a wormhole big enough for Discordia opened up where the sigil had been, a passage through the magic field from one physical location to another. 

“Come on, before it closes!” Discordia turned to grab an awestruck Aphrodisius’ hand and hurried to head into the wormhole. The height difference between them forced Aphrodisius to duck to fit into the entrance, which he would’ve complained about if it wasn’t the only thing stopping the trees from harassing him. 

The trees didn’t attempt to send anything into the wormhole after them, as Discordia had hoped. She made sure not to let go of Aphrodisius’ hand the entire journey through the portal; she didn’t trust him to stick close to her, with his ever-running mind. 

The space between the opening and entrance of the wormhole was the magic field itself, so, they were temporarily traveling in a whole different plane of existence, vast and endless, much like space. A quick glance backward proved Discordia correct in that Aphrodisius was amazed by everything he was seeing, but she knew they had to stick to the course; this spell was dangerous in the sense that, if you got stuck in the magic field, you’d never be able to get out and you couldn’t stay there long to begin with without dying in the process. 

They were quiet the entire time—Discordia, in staying focused, and Aphrodisius, in awe at all of the raw magic flying around the endless space, surely searching for its’ respective users. However, it wasn’t soon before their reality was clear before them once more. Discordia stopped and jerked him forward, urging him to go first since he was inexperienced with the process—and also more important than her in the case of a mishap. 

“Discordia, that was amazing!” Aphrodisius praised, awkwardly managing to jump onto the physical ground in front of him.

“N-No, not really! We all can do things like that!” The witch protested, preparing to hop onto the ground herself. Her face felt hot; it really was no big achievement, certainly nothing worth PRAISING her for! 

...Maybe it was. Discordia had been having trouble with her magic after the incident; her hands were shaky and unsure, where they used to be swift and precise. She had been having more spells blow up in her face than even casted half-heartedly, so technically this WAS something to be celebrated. But, it was embarrassing—she couldn’t tell Aphrodisius that! She was supposed to be the powerful daughter of Andred Willemijn Eruta, a woman with no flaws and she was supposed to share in that.

Thinking about it made Discordia feel horrible. To think, someone who was supposed to be born without a single flaw ended up being the very embodiment of the word. She had never been able to control her weight, never been able to control her emotions, and never been able to do anything as good as she should. 

_Mother would surely be disappointed in me. Her spirit must wander the magic realm wondering why fate let me live instead of her._

“Maybe, but nobody’s ever shown me anything like that before! I’d never thought I’d ever get such a close look at the inner workings of magic itself, not in all my time studying!” Discordia had never thought she’d ever seen Aphrodisius as excited as he was in that moment; it was almost like he forgot entirely about his wound. He continued, “You MUST do that again for me some time!” 

Discordia shook her head, trying to shake away her fluster. “Oh, please, doll, you don’t have to act like I’m a goddess over such an ordinary spell! Besides, It’s also not that safe to use! I only resorted to it because I was scared—Oh!“ She finally stepped down from the portal as she felt it begin to close up. In chastising herself for getting distracted, she didn’t notice the root on the ground in front of her—the reason Aphrodisius had jumped from the exit—and tripped over it, unable to catch her balance. 

Aphrodisius noticed and held out his arms to catch her, but found himself knocked off balance by a combination of his weak, wounded arm and the force of her slamming into him. As a result, he was forced to bring his arms back to try and halt the two of them from slamming hard into the ground beneath them. Discordia also quickly tried to brace herself against his chest in turn, but that didn’t stop their bodies from slamming together on the impact anyway. 

Discordia found herself alarmed at how warm her face suddenly felt. Then she realized the sort of prickly sensation of Aphrodisius’ stubble also against her face and she realized the predicament they’d found themselves in. She opened her eyes wide to find Aphrodisius’ staring back at her with a similar expression; they met at the lips. 

Discordia jerked her head back. “O-Oh, Aph... Aphrodisius! I... I’m so sor—“ She was surprised to be interrupted by Aphrodisius grabbing her by the back of the neck and pulling her back in—she certainly didn’t need to apologize, it appeared. 

Given that she knew now that the contact was wanted, Discordia allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of his lips on hers, as weak and easy as it probably made her look. She wasn’t an experienced kisser; in fact, she was embarrassed to admit the only time she’d ever been kissed on the lips was on her wedding day—the very sexually-open Delusians loved to torment her over that, among other things. She hoped Aphrodisius didn’t mind her moving around to try and figure out how to best kiss him properly; considering just how many people he’d kissed in his life, she had a LOT of people to compete with for even “most decent kisser”. 

Suddenly, Discordia felt his free hand cup her cheek, gently guiding her into where her head was supposed to be. She was glad he didn’t break the kiss to make some dumb comment like she assumed he would...

Then, he broke away as if on queue, sitting up with her still atop him, to speak, “So, how did that compare to all the others you’ve kissed?” 

_Curses!_ Discordia wanted to knock that cocky look off his face for ruining such a perfect moment. 

“I’ve only kissed one other person,” She made sure he knew she was exasperated, “but, yes, if it pleases you, it was better.” 

“Sorry for breaking it,” The king seemed a little surprised with the aggressive hint in her tone. “I didn’t know you were  that pent up.”

The handmaiden's eyes widened. “W-What? No! I-I just was still getting into it!” Discordia protested, blushing hard once again. “I am not... ‘pent up’.” She crossed her arms in protest, but it only amused Aphrodisius further. 

“You realize you’re talking to a god in the love domain, right?” Aphrodisius smirked, “My specific specialty is allure, but, really, that’s just because calling me the “God of Lust and Attraction” sounds less mysterious and doesn’t give me as much of unique distinction from the others in the domain.” His eyes had a strange look to them, one that Discordia couldn’t explain... he was probably using some type of power on her. “And, trust my ability to feel these things,” his words confirmed that he was checking something in her, “I can tell you’re having some type of sexual issue. My magic can’t tell me exactly what, but my guess is... self-confidence related?” He rose an eyebrow at her and Discordia shied from his gaze. “Either way, I could tell something interesting was happening in you when you kissed me.” 

“Gah! M-Maybe! But, I didn’t ask to be exposed like this!” She had taken note early on that it seemed he didn’t know when to shut his mouth and now it was abundantly clear. “You could’ve just told me it was obvious I’ve been lusting after you and left it at that!”

“Oh, but Discordia, your lust isn’t at the forefront of your emotions when it comes to me; this frustration is more deep-rooted than that.” Aphrodisius shook his head, correcting her. “Your emotions when it comes to me, if you were curious about the real answer, are interesting.” He paused to think of a good way to summarize what he felt before continuing, “they are unclear; but I sense some level of love, or perhaps admiration...” Aphrodisius seemed almost... upset as he spoke. Even a bit gloomy. Discordia fascinated him—she was the one person he’d ever truly wanted, but yet, it seemed she was the only person who was unsure if _she_ wanted _him_. The handmaiden looked to be waiting for something though, still. 

“I apologize,” Aphrodisius blushed as if he was suddenly embarrassed by his own ability. Discordia relaxed a bit, so that must’ve been what she wanted to hear. “I have a bad habit of doing that. I don’t suppose I’d want my sexual frustrations aired to the world while being stuck in a dangerous, living forest full of equally dangerous religious zealots either.” He chuckled, but the comment made Discordia realize something she hadn’t noticed before—her spell hadn’t been perfect after all! She had intended for the end of the wormhole to open in her room, but they were both still outside!

Discordia leaped up, earning her a puzzled look from her companion. “My spell was supposed to take us inside!” She looked around, frustrated, trying to figure out where they were. The courtyard—she could tell by the rose bushes that frequented the broken stone “kingdom square” of sorts, though the functioning places of the kingdom were all underground. Also, in front of her stood the top of the Delusian Cathedral, the only part of the kingdom that broke through the surface. 

“Would they notice if we took some of these roses?” Aphrodisius drew her attention back to himself, the king clearly by caring about any danger despite knowing full-well it was everywhere around them. “In Ehmphyriat, it is customary to give the one you’re courting a hundred flowers... I couldn’t bring that many along without them all dying, though.” He sounded sheepish, like he at one point truly thought he could truck a hundred flowers around with him for the whole two-month journey it took to get from the capitol of Ehmphyriat to the capitol of Rostille. 

“Oh, no! The flowers are very important to Our Lady Death!” Discordia was quick to rush over and grab his ever-curious hands. “They are a pure extension of herself! They didn’t exist here until her ascension!” 

Aphrodisius furrowed his brow, “Aren’t the ones on her... what would you call them, limbs? Branches?”

“We call them her crown.”

“Ah, so similar to a tree.” Aphrodisius nodded in understanding. “Anyway, I thought the flowers on her crown were... dying indefinitely? How would she bring life to flowers here, if her very purpose is to take life away?” 

“It’s the forest acknowledging and appreciating her for what she does,” Discordia explained. “They are as much a team as they are each other.” A creaking sound made her tense up. “We’d better quit talking and start sneaking in, the forest is starting to realize something’s wrong.” Her voice held a sense of urgency as she grabbed his hand and led him to the cathedral. There was no door, but there was a large window with a lock on it—a lock Discordia had the key for, which she quickly used. 

“You know, darlin’, if you come home with me, I’ll give you an entire private garden of flowers—“

“Shut _your mouth_!” Discordia cut him off harshly, before quickly slapping a hand over her mouth, shocked at how it came out. “I’m sorry!” She hastily apologized. “You talk too much sometimes...”

Aphrodisius still seemed stunned that she’d yelled at him, but half of that was because of his body responding to the harshness in a way that he had been hoping it wouldn’t. “It’s alright, I deserved it!” He pushed her lightly towards the entrance, urging her not to waste time yelling at him, “you’re right, we should be hurrying!” Nervously, he fiddled with his cape, pulling one edge slightly in front of him just in case she looked back. 

Discordia seemed puzzled at how funny he was suddenly acting, but was thankful to be forgiven nonetheless. She nodded to him once before gently opening the window. 

She went through first to make sure the coast was clear, then motioned for him to follow. The cathedral itself should have been mostly empty since Delu’seer and Sera were in Rostille, but there were three possible threats to the stillness Discordia was watching for.

Princess Cordula, the adoptive daughter of the two queens, was one. Discordia wasn’t sure if she had gone with her parents to the wedding or not, since she hadn’t seen her with the group on the way there; but, then again, it was unlikely for her to not go to large, potentially chaotic, events like this. Maybe she could write off the princess after all—she was the worst of threats despite her young age, so without her in the way, sneaking around would be easy. 

Another potential threat was Angie, a necromancer who often cleaned up the messes caused by rituals—usually as a way to find “extras” for her own vile work—and also happened to HATE Discordia for some strange reason. 

The last threat was the cook; a three-headed geitlan, named Chi, May, and Ra. The goat woman wasn’t particularly fond of Discordia either—not necessarily for her weight, but her binge eating problem did get on the cook’s nerves more often than not. It made Discordia feel bad, but she couldn’t help it—and the goat was a VERY good cook, on top of that. Discordia surmised that the cook would be the one most likely to be roaming around.

Either way, she knew they couldn’t be standing around in one place for so long—they wouldn’t be safe until they were in Discordia’s room, but even then it wouldn’t be completely. 

Luckily for them, Discordia’s room wasn’t too far away from the main chamber, which was what they were currently heading towards. They walked down the many, MANY stairs down from the level with the window they’d entered through, with Aphrodisius stopping every once in a while, convinced the stairs couldn’t go further. But, they did, and he complained under his breath once for every flight. For twenty more floors, before they finally reached what was considered the main level. Ahead of them was a long hallway that Aphrodisius recognized as the one leading to the throne room. 

“Does she REALLY need all of those stairs?” He tried to joke, quietly, but he was tired from the walk. 

“Well,” Discordia started, sounding equally breathless, but matching his whisper, “she didn’t build this place, for one, and also, that’s not the way we usually come and go, as you already know.” She then urged him onward, until they were at the entrance to the massive room. Notably, this was one of the only places in the underground kingdom that was exposed to natural light, thanks to the massive tree that had taken root in the floor there and grown through both the roof of the cathedral and the ground above it. The tree made Delu’seer’s throne, in the way its branches and roots formed around the massive red gem it held in its trunk. The gem, which glowed on its own to begin with, also helped reflect light all over the room, leaving everything in strange, unnatural red and orange hues. 

Discordia peaked out from around the entryway they were hiding behind to see if anyone was inhabiting the room; she saw no one, but checked again to make sure. Nothing. With a sigh of relief, she nodded to Aphrodisius to follow behind her once more. They hurried across the room’s expanse until they met one of the large doors on the left side of the room, which Discordia pushed open carefully to make sure no one was behind it. Upon deciding the hall was empty, she once again allowed Aphrodisius through. Discordia’s room was the door at the end, which they were both happy to hurry into; the door was locked behind them. 

Aphrodisius observed Discordia working her magic once more, but this time she was projecting into an already-carved sigil in the wall by the door; one of a few.

“What’s that do?”

“Sound-proofing. No one outside this room should be able to hear us, as long as the sigil has magic in it.”

Aphrodisius suddenly got a devious look on his face, but Discordia interrupted him before he could speak whatever suggestive comment he wanted to make. 

“It’s so no one will hear us talking!” She tossed her bag at him, which hit him and knocked him backward onto her bed.

“Are you sure? This looks like an invitation,” Aphrodisius stretched his arms out as he moved her bag off of him, reminding Discordia of his still-undressed wound. 

“Aphrodisius,” The handmaiden groaned as she approached him, “do you really think I’d attempt to do that _HERE?”_

He studied her for a moment with eyes narrowed in thought before answering, to her surprise, “Yes, I think. I feel like you might enjoy risks to compensate for your lack of enjoyment in li—“

“Never mind!” Discordia quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. “Your arm! We still need to fix your arm!” She wasn’t sure she wanted to have all of her sexual preferences psychoanalyzed out of her just yet.

Aphrodisius grabbed her wrist to pull her hand away. “Don’t worry about that, the damaged tissue will regenerate in a couple of hours.” He waved it off like it wasn’t a big deal. 

“But doesn’t it hurt?” Discordia sounded worried anyway. “It’s my fault, I want to help.” She frowned, her eyes taking on that look they did when she was near crying. 

Not wanting to upset her, Aphrodisius conceded. “I suppose it hurts a little bit,” he nodded after a pause. It actually hurt _a lot,_ but he was keen on pretending. “Go ahead, though I’m not sure how much you could do without being a cleric.” 

Discordia quickly procured a first aid kit from underneath her bed and returned to his side. “We all have medical supplies in our rooms here, to help us recover from offerings. I donate the most.” She beamed, proud. “I can also make some ice to put on it if you think that would help.” 

_Donate the most? Donate the most of what?_ Aphrodisius was suddenly interested in whatever that meant. _If she needed medical attention after whatever she did to give Delu’seer offerings... and offerings were presumably something like blood or flesh... was she harming herself?_ He stored the thought for a later date.

“That would be wonderful.” Aphrodisius nodded. “Do what you must.” He moved so that he was laying normally on the bed, with his head on the pillow. 

Discordia quickly set to work, but she stopped when she closer inspected the wound. “Isn’t your blood supposed to be gold or something?” 

“My father’s blood is red,” Aphrodisius explained, “so, unfortunately, I don’t get any fancy blood.” He chuckled and shut his eyes as he waited for his wound to be dressed.

“Oh, ok.” Discordia nodded. “That makes sense.” She then took to cleaning out the wound, which looked to be hurting him a fair bit, but she decided to pretend she didn’t notice for the sake of his ego. Once it was clean, she put some type of salve on it to help it heal—she herself didn’t know what was in it, but it always helped her. 

“Do you want me to wrap the bandage over your shirt or under?” She broke the silence and Aphrodisius opened his eyes to inspect his arm.

“Under.” He answered. “Hold on, I’ll take this off for you.” He slipped out of his cape and swiftly discarded his shirt along with it. Discordia seemed to like what she saw, he noted as she began to wrap the wound, but he kept his comments to himself and let her work. He’d probably made enough sexually-fueled comments that night, of course right after he told himself he’d be able to control himself. It was still distressing; he didn’t want to lose his chance to have her, but it was so _difficult_ to keep it all in. 

“There! All patched up!” Discordia’s voice drew him back to reality.

“Thank you,” Aphrodisius reached out to caress her cheek, which she leaned into—something not too unlike the interaction he’d witnessed between Sera and Delu’seer earlier in the night. He stroked her cheek as he pulled his hand away, saying, “do you want to try mending that hole in my shirt while you’re fixing things? Or would you rather me put it back on?”

“I’ll fix it!” Discordia answered a little too excitedly and scrambled over him to grab it. She got her hands on his cape, too, noticing it resting beside his shirt. With the two garments in hand, she pulled herself back up and set them down on the bed; she placed the cape to the side, but she was excited to inspect it later. In front of her, she set down the shirt so that she could look over the tear—a jagged mark in the fine cloth, but nothing she wouldn’t be able to fix with time; hopefully.

She hopped off the bed, leaving Aphrodisius to watch her curiously as she searched for her materials—a needle, some thread, and, finally, something stashed under her pillow that Aphrodisius couldn’t see well enough to identify until she brought it out; a pair of fine, silver scissors. The part of Aphrodisius that contained all of his love-domain-deity magic started sensing something in her when she looked down at them; some form of attraction, but not one he had any control or influence on.

_Familial love...I think? ...Her mother’s magic scissors! Of course!_

On the note of them being magic, though, he noticed something wrong with them; they weren’t giving off a complete magic aura like most magic and enchanted items would when analyzed. 

“They’re broken.” Discordia piped up, her voice sounding soft and weak. She must’ve noticed him staring at them weirdly. “She gave them to me before...” the handmaiden paused. “...She knew.” She decided to skip the painful detail before continuing, “I damaged them in my escape.” 

“I’m sorry,” Aphrodisius spoke solemnly. “I can tell they mean just about as much to you as she did.”

“They’re all I have left of her.” Discordia shut her eyes tight. “And I can hardly use them. I can’t even practice the special magic they invoke, because I just HAD to fall on the side they were on.” She sounded angry at herself.

“It wasn’t your fault, I’m sure it was out of your control.” Aphrodisius tried to comfort her, reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder.

Discordia whipped around, a wild light in her eyes, almost as if she was angry he would suggest such a thing—something about what he’d set her off. “I killed all those people, didn’t I?” She was breathing heavily, similar to how she had when she’d panicked earlier, but not the same. “I was in control when I strangled them to death, each and every one. And I did nothing to take responsibility for my actions when they blamed my mother for their deaths.” 

Aphrodisius’ eyes widened. “Discordia...” That was _quite_ the bomb of information to be dropping on him out of nowhere; it definitely took him by surprise. 

The witch seemed to realize what she’d admitted to him and suddenly looked horrified. She dropped her prized possession and covered her face with her hands, crying into them. 

The killing thing, no one had ever mentioned that to Aphrodisius before; that was something Prudence didn’t want the world to know, he presumed. The island must’ve been serious about trying to maintain that peaceful image, because this talk of apparent serial murder and burning women to death was all new information.

But themes of death would not stop him from his goal; Discordia was quiet and kind, so if she was killing people, it was surely justified! ...Though, if he was honest with himself, Aphrodisius probably didn’t care if those people were innocent or not; he was, by this point, in love with Discordia for certain. That, and the Discordia standing before him now, clearly upset and regretful, was definitely no murderer. 

And, Aphrodisius was a king. It’s not like he had never pulled strings to cause disappearances of bothersome Ehmphyrians from time to time...

“Discordia, it’s okay,” Aphrodisius reached out to her, only to have his hand batted away. 

“You can’t possibly still want to be here with me after hearing _that!”_ Discordia protested, still in tears. She seemed to get herself worked up relatively easy, Aphrodisius noted. “I was told I would suffer for the rest of my life to equal out the weight of my crimes and, even then, still be dragged into Hell when I died! Part of my suffering must certainly be you leaving!” She sounded hysterical and wasn’t thinking clearly; Aphrodisius needed some way to get through to her and fast.

“Discordia, we can talk through this, I’m sure you had your reasons—“

“Selfish reasons! I killed to protect my family name from slander! I killed the colony’s most disgusting men to avenge my little sister’s defiled innocence, my apology for treating her so poorly without knowing what she was experiencing! I killed to protect my mother and I from being burned in town square, and I STILL couldn’t do enough! It was all in vain!” Discordia’s desperation, her anguish was only growing by the second. “I killed my mother’s own girlfriend out of fear, for Baphomet’s sake!” It sounded like she was yelling through gritted teeth, but the mention of Baphomet intrigued Aphrodisius—was she reliving her worst nightmare right in front of him?

“Discordia, you were just doing what you had to do to survive! You can’t fault yourself for trying to protect your family, even if your methods were extreme!” Aphrodisius was finally able to cut in and grab her attention, but only because he may have let a bit of his temper and impatience loose. She didn’t say anything, just looked away from him and tried to contain her crying, like she was trying to ponder his words. He approached her carefully, holding his arms out to her once more. “Come here, please,” he sighed, “I think it’d be easier for you to talk about more if you felt safe; and I hope I can be that if you want to say more.”

Discordia was silent for a few moments, hesitant. But, suddenly, she rushed forward into his arms to resume her crying, but this time with his comforting arms wrapped around her.

Aphrodisius maneuvered around until he found a way to carefully rest on the bed with her still in his arms. He was sitting up, but Discordia was effectively laying on him, partially supported upright by his chest. She still clung to him, grateful for his closeness and not wanting to let it go. 

“...Thank... Thank you.” Discordia eventually managed to whimper out. “You’re too kind to me... I don’t deserve this.”

“No.” Aphrodisius spoke sternly, “everyone is just too cruel to you. You’ve done things in your past that you’re not proud of, but the thing to keep in mind is your not proud of them. You’re not the same woman.” 

“I don’t know... I think I’m just better at keeping it inside.” 

Aphrodisius rubbed her back. “No, I’ve seen nothing but good in you the whole short time you’ve been with me.” He pulled her in tighter before adding, “you’re stronger than you know, Discordia. Not many people can say they survived being strapped to a cross and set on fire AND being in a death cult where everyone sees you as an object to walk over. Most people would’ve given up by now, I think.”

Discordia pressed herself closer to him, burying her face in the crook of his neck and squeezing him tight. “Maybe...” Her crying was starting to let up a bit as she attempted to relax. 

“Would telling me the whole story make it easier to deal with?” Aphrodisius queried, hopeful he’d get to learn about her wild-sounding past—and hopeful he’d be able to make it hurt less, even if it was just a little. 

Discordia seemed to think over his question, staying silent for a few minutes before offering up an almost timid-sounding, “Okay.” The sound of her voice almost startled Aphrodisius after the long silence. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” he nodded to her as she looked up at him with her sad, doe-like eyes.

She gulped hard, then let out a long sigh before recollecting herself. “As you know, I was born in Prudence,” she began, her voice shaking slightly. “My mother was Andred Willemijn Eruta and she meant everything to me. I wasn’t her most prized apprentice—that was my former husband, Pallas—but I wanted nothing more than to make her proud of me.

“I could and can sew, but my main area of business was modeling. I showed off her work, Pallas’ work, and my work—well, all the feminine stuff I mean... But, anyway, I was famous less for my sewing and more for my body; I entered pageants and competitions and I always won, whether I deserved it or just scared the judges enough with equal parts wrath, wealth, and power.”

_Model work. I knew about that part,_ Aphrodisius thought. It was something he’d seen growing up, though he hadn’t been interested in the stick-thin, wild-haired, foul-mouthed daughter of Willemijn at the time. 

Discordia continued on as he thought. “Modeling was what made me special; but, as you probably saw at the restaurant... I have a bit of a problem.”

“Eating’s not a problem,” Aphrodisius tried to protest, “If you’re hungry, you’re hungry and no one should give you any issue over it.”

“No, no, it is.” Discordia shook her head. “When I start eating, I can’t stop. It’s always been this way, since I was around 12 or 13. I think of food all the time; the flavor, the smell... and my brain craves it unceasingly. Once I get a bite, it won’t let me stop, even if I’m full. It just begs for more and more, so much that sometimes it hurts.

“I don’t handle it well now, clearly... but I handled it even worse back then. I feared gaining any weight, afraid I’d lose my famous figure and my mother’s favor. She was always telling me how unfavorable a large waistline was; how a woman should aim to be as thin as possible. It filled me with so much fear, that when I DID start getting a stomach, I started wearing my corsets extra tight. It hurt, but I saw it as necessary; it was so painful and tight, that when I ate, I would often throw up since there was no room for any extra binged food to go.”

“That’s horrible.” Aphrodisius was sympathetic. “You shouldn’t have had that standard pushed on you. I think you look lovely just the way you are; even more so than you did back then. The curvier figure suits you better.” He leaned close to kiss Discordia on her head, sending a rush of delight through her.

“Well...” She blushed, stammering, “For... for a little bit... sometimes... I... I think so too.” Discordia turned to smile at him again, a smile with genuine happiness in it; it melted his heart. “Especially when you say things like that. No one here is nice to me like you are. They always tell me I look gross.”

“And they’re wrong. Who are they to be mad at you for your natural form? You were never meant to be thin, Discordia. You, and everyone else, shouldn’t fault yourself for _being_ yourself”. 

“I’ve never thought of it that way before...” Discordia seemed amazed at the concept. “Thank you, Aphrodisius.” She squirmed upwards to plant a kiss on his cheek, which he was happy to receive.

It was strange. She’d never felt this at ease with anyone before. Maybe it said something about her, how quickly she warmed up to him and was nearly fully committed to the role of his partner already without even actually having that role. It embarrassed her a little bit; she thought she had more restraint, but if he kept being so... perfect... it would be hard to let go of him.

_Maybe I won’t..._ Discordia thought, _ I think... maybe I will accept his offer. I just need to see how he reacts to the rest of this mess of mine..._

“Do you want to continue?” Aphrodisius asked gently, prompting Discordia to nod and clear her throat so she could pick up where she left off. He hoped he didn’t seem too pushy, or like he was hurrying her.

“I was full of self-loathing, but I could never express that out loud, so I took it out on others, I think. I was cruel, one of the meanest people in Prudence for my age group, probably. I strove to prove I was the best by knocking others into the dirt; the only person I was nice to was Pallas, and even he wasn’t safe from me ordering him around.” Discordia paused briefly, before adding, “you know that new Mother Justice, Magdalena?”

“The stiff and shrill? There aren’t many people like her.” Aphrodisius chuckled, “Why?”

“I bullied her,” Discordia admitted. “Her mother was... an interesting woman. I thought everyone in that family was a weirdo.”

Aphrodisius was silent for a moment before admitting, “To be honest, I can’t blame you. I probably would’ve bullied her, too.” He shrugged. “She’s odd, that one. I can’t imagine how she came to power.”

“I would assume by force. No man in Prudence would ever willingly give up his position to a woman.” Discordia gritted her teeth. “Especially that bastard, Abrahamus.”

“I always thought he was incredibly unpleasant to be around as well, the few times I interacted with him. He acted as if he was better than me somehow,” Aphrodisius huffed, “as if he wasn’t talking to the most powerful man alive.” 

Discordia shook her head and rested her forehead on his chest, which made him realize there was probably another, more valid reason she hated the late Father Justice.

“And he condemned you and your mother to death, yes, that is _much_ worse,” Aphrodisius tried to recover, awkwardly, “I apologize. Please continue when you’re ready.”

Discordia sighed and started her tale once more, “My mother would often... cull customers that betrayed her trust. If she heard rumors of them threatening to expose the family, she’d strangle them via the magic threads in their clothing—and she clothed basically everyone in Prudence. I... I thought she was too lenient.” Discordia swallowed hard. “At this point in my life, I personally was already under suspicion for witchcraft; my behavior was a big part of that, but also people had claimed to have seen me drinking and smoking on occasions... and they might have. The tattoo on my back was also there by this point, but no one ever saw that—I’m sure mother would’ve hated it.”

“Tattoo?” Aphrodisius was suddenly curious and was leaning over her to look at her back; he hadn’t paid her back much attention before. Well... he may have glanced at it before, but not her _upper_ back.

Discordia blushed as he loomed over her trying to get a good look. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice it earlier, it’s pretty hard to miss.”

“It’s nice,” Aphrodisius complimented. “Very intricate. You were laying down for a while to get all that done, no?”

Discordia nodded. “It hurt a fair bit.”

“Is this something significant to your craft?” Aphrodisius inspected the lines of ink. “The design, I mean.”

Discordia was suddenly embarrassed to answer but managed to get it out anyway. “It’s my cat,” she admitted. “But, yes. She doubles as my familiar; she is a part of my soul, or an extension of it is probably a better explanation—I can go into more detail on that later.” 

“Can I see her?” There was a hint of excitement in the king’s voice. “I’m curious to see how a witch’s familiar differs from a normal wizard or warlock’s.”

“I suppose, she’s been pestering me about wanting to inspect you the whole time you’ve been talking to me.” Discordia nodded. She then shut her eyes and let out a deep breath as a glow began to appear on her chest—a few moments later, an ethereal cat with a sigil set on her neck rather than a collar leaped out from the spot and landed on the bed in front of them.

The cat was quick to prance over to an amazed Aphrodisius, whom she was quick to start smelling over. 

“Wow, you weren’t joking about her being a part of you,” he watched as the cat moved further up the bed to rub herself against his side, hoping to be given any form of attention. He took note of the skeletal-like pattern adorning her black fur, as well as how the sigil and empty eyes she had appeared with had disappeared in favor of the form of a normal cat. Complying to the cat’s wishes,he reached out to pet her, soon after asking, “what’s her name? She’s very pretty.” He chuckled as the cat head-butted his hand, “and nice. You must be fortunate to have such a good girl as your companion.” Aphrodisius praised, prompting the cat to purr happily.

Discordia looked surprised at the mention of ‘good’. “Morrigan. And she’s playing it up for you, she’s pretty devious, actually.” She shot her cat a look as Morrigan turned to look at her.

_Me, devious? However could you say such a thing!_ The cat's voice resonated in Discordia’s head, sarcasm thick in its tone. 

_Devious was being nice. You are a horrible influence sometimes,_ Discordia shot back at her before continuing to speak to Aphrodisius, “She likes you, though. Usually, she isn’t this kind to strangers.” She reached out to join in the petting, but Morrigan arched her back downwards away from her hand. 

Aphrodisius laughed while Discordia looked at her small companion as if she’d committed a capital offense against her. “I wonder if she smells my own little followers on me,” the king replied once he’d settled his laughter, “I have many cats that roam in and out of my living space.”

“You do?” This seemed to catch Discordia’s excitement. “I didn’t know you were a cat person!”

“A lesser-known fact to those outside the kingdom,” Aphrodisius nodded. “Though, I’ve taken you off-topic again. Don’t feel as if you have to let me talk over you,” He apologized, seeming a bit embarrassed as he scooped up Morrigan and handed her to her larger counterpart. 

Discordia accepted the unwilling offering and gave her a squeeze before urging her to return to her place beside her soul. Morrigan protested, but Discordia wouldn’t let the nosy cat have her way this time. Reluctantly, the cat gave up and returned to her rightful place, turning ethereal once more and re-entering Discordia’s soul. 

“Don’t be sorry, I like talking to you,” Discordia frowned. “I don’t want to bore you with my issues, I know it’s a lot of—“

“Do not apologize,” Aphrodisius interrupted her, “I will listen to every word you speak as if it were your last.” He promised, urging her to continue where she left off. 

Discordia smiled at him and squirmed to get comfortable in his arms again. “Alright,” she sighed, “as I was saying—I was a wrathful, demon of a woman. I thought my mother was too accepting of criticism, but really I was just too thin-skinned and scared of any form of failure. I... decided to take it upon myself to eliminate those that stood to hurt the family name, or... to be honest, people that just upset me.” Aphrodisius noted that Discordia seemed to stiffen up, noticeably uncomfortable. This was getting into more dangerous territory for her, he assumed, so he did his best to comfort her in silence by grabbing one of her hands with his free one.

Discordia appreciated the gesture and squeezed his hand as she continued, “As I said before, I killed the same way she did; strangulation by taking control of the magic threads in their clothes. It was... just as graphic as it sounds; you could sometimes hear bones breaking and organs being crushed. I hate to admit it, but I found it exciting; it just filled me with some strange feeling... I... will never be comfortable discussing the specifics of that, but “exciting” is the only way I can summarize it.”

_Sadomasochistic fetish, perhaps? That’s not something I’d expect from her, but interesting nonetheless... very interesting..._ Aphrodisius wouldn’t call her out, but he could tell there was some odd sexual aspect to what she describing—not the actual murder part, but the feeling that hurting others and making them helpless gave her. Probably a common trend in serial killers, so not particularly shocking when viewed from that perspective. 

“I was out of control,” Discordia continued on, “it was like a drug; I NEEDED to kill people to satisfy some twisted feeling inside me... if I held back, it would build and build and get more and more aggravating as time passed. It made me feel strangely at peace afterward...” she trailed off, but quickly shook it off and regained her composure, “I was good at it, too. All I ever left behind were black candles, my calling card, I guess. In reality, I hoped to lead the Justice and his Jury into thinking cultists were responsible.

“But I got too caught up in everything. Near the end, I was like a desperate, rabid animal; sloppy. Less clean, less precise... I forgot to remove my magic signature from Philomena’s scarf and I even left a strand of my hair at the scene, apparently.” Discordia sounded upset by this; there was both pain and anger in her voice as she finished the sentence.

“Philomena?” Aphrodisius recognized the unique name. “You mean, like, the famous journalist?”

“My mother’s girlfriend, at the time. Yes.” 

“Always wondered where that one went. I guess now I know.” 

“I thought she was going to expose mother; she was investigating the murders and I was reading her findings when she was away. She was catching onto the killings but believed mother was responsible. I had no choice!” Discordia slapped a hand over her face. “I choked her to death with the scarf my mother gave her as a present, the one she always wore. I tried to make it look like a suicide by hanging her body from the ceiling after.” Her jaw tensed up as she added, “I learned afterward that I had neglected to read the final entry she ever wrote—the one where she disproved my mother as the killer.”

“I see why that upsets you so much then.” Aphrodisius nodded. “You didn’t have to kill her and she’s the one that got you caught.”

“Well... to be honest, I think she would’ve set her sights on me anyway. Philomena didn’t like me, so, I may have had... extra motivation to get rid of her. Though... her opinion was justified. I was a spoiled brat who needed to learn her place and I suppose it’s some sort of poetic justice that her death brought that about.” 

Aphrodisius nodded as she spoke. “So... from here, the governing officials of Prudence caught you?”

“Yes, but I was warned ahead of time that they were coming.” Discordia sighed and shook her head. “I had started working with Baphomet after refusing the Moon Goddess Andred—you wouldn’t know her, she explicitly served witches.” She quickly clarified before continuing, “I became a favorite student of the goat deity, so they chose to warn me that I would pay for my sins, for upsetting the balance of good and evil in the world.” Tears started to well up in her eyes, “they also told me that I would survive, whatever happened. That they would not allow me to die, so I could repent since they believed I could.” She was growing more and more visibly distraught by the second as she spoke, “They told me there would be no saving my mother, either. Not unless I stayed in Hell permanently and joined their court, which I refused. Her death was necessary to restore their oh-so highly-regarded balance.” 

“I’m sorry,” Aphrodisius spoke softly, letting go of her hand to wrap his other arm around her and squeeze her tight. “That must’ve made it feel so much worse.”

“I felt helpless. By the time I returned from their realm, it was already too late and we had officials at our door putting us under arrest...” Discordia wrapped her arms back around him as she continued, resting all of her ability to maintain control on his embrace. “Mother accepted it; I pleaded with her to try and escape, but she told me we would not die as cowards, that it would be a dishonor to our family line. She told me not to let them see any emotion—no, she reprimanded me for looking weak in the face of death in front of our enemies.

“She was so angry with me. They placed the blame on her, unable to differentiate our magic and having a larger distaste for her, but I think she knew it was me. Mother never corrected them, but she must’ve been... so... disappointed in what I had done, I... I almost wanted to die due to that alone, but Baphomet’s words rang in my head; that I would live.” Discordia’s voice cracked as an awful, familiar pressure began to rise in her chest. She begged herself to hold on, to get the last part out so she wouldn’t have to tell the story all over again later, but it was growing very hard. Her mind was abuzz with the memories bubbling up from the depths of her subconscious—being dragged away in chains, tied up and set ablaze... the feeling and smell of her own flesh burning before an audience containing the entire town. 

Aphrodisius nodded, still speaking low, “you were promised your life in order to live through the suffering you inflicted on others as a way to repent.”

“I... think so.” Discordia whimpered, “apparently death would’ve been too good for someone like me.”

Aphrodisius pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Well, I’m glad you made it out of that. You’ve clearly learned from your past and, considering the political climate of Prudence back then, I can’t blame you for what you did anyway. You were desperate and scared; you felt out of control and all you wanted was to protect your loved ones. Even if you got a little carried away, your goal, at heart, was to be safe.” He paused as she peered up at him. “And, I don’t think anyone could be upset with you for wanting safety. That’s something everyone wants.”

Discordia sniffled, “I guess...” She was silent for a few moments, trying to muster up the courage to continue. “But, none of my suffering has ever hurt as badly as the trial. They tied us to crosses in town square, with the whole town watching.” She swallowed hard. “Right next to each other. Then they... said a few things, I was so scared I don’t remember what, and... lit the dried out straw beneath us. Then it was up to time.”

“You’re trembling,” Aphrodisius sounded concerned, “you don’t have to continue if it’s too much.” He rubbed her back comfortingly, worried that his nosiness would be the cause of her becoming upset yet again. 

“No!” Discordia exclaimed, “I-I can do it! I have to!” She was crying again, but she was more determined than ever to push her story out. Maybe he was right—talking about it would make it better somehow. Pushing it out into the open would keep it from being locked inside her. 

Aphrodisius was surprised at this sudden determination, but he was happy that she was trying to continue despite her pain. It must’ve been very difficult and, for what it was worth, she was doing a fairly good job, despite the tears. 

“No one ever talks about how bad the smoke is,” Discordia started again, sniffling and trying her best to control her unsteady breathing. “It makes every breath burn, if you can even get any air in. I could barely see, I... I think my nose started bleeding, badly, a-and I remember every breath I took being more like a strangled cough.” She let out a shaky breath and tried to compose herself again, leaning into Aphrodisius once more as he tried his best to comfort her. 

_That would explain that slight little rasp her voice has,_ he thought. _I almost feel bad for thinking it was attractive now..._

“The fire... I was too distracted by the smoke to notice it climbing up towards me at first. The skin on the bottom of my feet was burnt before the flames even touched them, I think. Every movement hurt, but all I could do was thrash around once the flames finally met me and burned enough to break my lower restraints.” Discordia’s voice was taking an odd tune suddenly; a little monotone, compared to the pain Aphrodisius had heard in it before. Her gaze looked glassy as she recounted the rest of her tale.

“The feeling of fire dancing on your legs is _unimaginable._ I don’t think I can accurately describe the pain, or how it felt to look down and see chunks of skin peeling off in the heat. It felt like my blood was boiling, along with whatever fluid was pouring out from under my skin as it blistered and broke. I...” Discordia was suddenly silent, like she was locked into place.

“Discordia? Are you alright?” Aphrodisius was quick to ask, concerned. He rustled her gently, gaining no response. Unsure of what exactly was happening, he resigned to just keep holding her close, feeling guilty that his suggestion had brought this about.

After what seemed like a few minutes, she moved against him, suddenly back to her normal, whimpering self. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened. It happens when I try to talk about it.” She sounded like she felt bad for this.

“No, no, it’s fine!” Aphrodisius promised. “Are you finished then? I don’t have to hear the end if you don’t want to continue,” he pressed, once again making sure she knew it was okay.

“...No.” Discordia shook her head, “I’m almost done, I can get to the end.” 

Aphrodisius admired this determination she had been showing him recently. It was clear she was trying her hardest; she certainly was not as weak as her associates pegged her to be, she couldn’t be, he thought, as he watched the show of strength before him. 

“I broke one of my arms free, with my thrashing. I was able to claw through the restraint around my waist, but then I found myself clinging with my free arm to the beam I’d just freed myself from because I realized I’d made a mistake. Only restrained by one arm, if I let myself drop, I’d fall right into the blaze below. But that’s when a miracle happened...” Discordia’s voice trailed off as she re-experienced that rush of hope and excitement to her chest. 

“The bottom of the cross began to splinter and crack, louder than the fire, as the officials looking on realized they made an error in the strength of wood they used for me specifically—due to my over-tight corset use, they hadn’t accounted for my actual weight and the structure went falling backward with me still attached to it.” She sounded relieved as she spoke and Aphrodisius was happy to see her experience at least some relief from the harsher parts of the memory. 

“So, you broke free from there?”

Discordia nodded. “I fell backward into the fountain, you know the huge one that sits in town square. They always burned witches there since it was easier to douse out the fire afterward. But, anyway, I think I went into some kind of shock when the water hit me; I didn’t realize what had happened until I accidentally breathed in some, and only then did I bring my head back out of it. I scrambled backward, dragging my burning legs into the water, but I think that may have felt even worse than the fire to begin with. 

“I remember letting out a horrible wail as I tried to drag myself out of the fountain, having freed my other arm when the cross fell and snapped on some of the stone around the structure. The overseeing officials, I saw them coming at me from almost all sides and my mother was screaming at me as best as she could to ‘run’... so I did, once I regained my senses.” Discordia swallowed hard at the memory, how shock and relief had so quickly returned to horror as she was rushed at with pitchforks and torches. “I stopped at the end of the street, daring to look back and...” Her voice broke and she was reduced to a sobbing mess.

“I can guess; you can skip this part,” Aphrodisius spoke softly to her, planting a kiss on her forehead as he rubbed her back once more. “You’re doing a very good job,” he assured, “I know this is painful for you.” 

“T-Thank you,” Discordia managed to sob out, “I... I m-miss her so... _much!”_ The feeling was a horrible _agony_ filling her chest like poison. She still remembered exactly how it felt, years later; the way her heart dropped into her stomach when she turned back just in time to see her mother let out her last breath before her head slumped forward, dead. She still didn’t know how she managed to press on after seeing that.

“I understand.” Aphrodisius nodded. “I can’t imagine what I would do if something like that had happened to Semele. Places like Prudence and Delusia shouldn’t exist; religion should not be taken as far as these places push it. I can only imagine how many people could tell a tale similar to yours.” He shook his head, disappointed at how these societies could exist, let alone form. 

“W-Well, if Delusia didn’t exist, I would’ve been hunted down and killed...” Discordia’s point gave the king some form of emotional whiplash. 

“O-Oh?” He stuttered, suddenly horrified that he had implied a better world would also be a world without her. _Fool! Why do you keep making these amateur mistakes?_

“I ran to Delusia from Prudence,” Discordia explained, still teary-eyed and probably in need of a tissue. “The people there were scared of Delu’seer and her followers; they’d heard of what they did to the men they caught on their land or hunted down. It would be the only place I was safe. The journey was hard; it didn’t take long, but swimming across the inlet with severely wounded legs was... _bad.”_

Aphrodisius winced. “ _Saltwater.._. I can’t imagine that would feel good on a burn of any size or degree...” He desperately searched for a way to lighten the mood, “though, you’ve proven to be quite resilient. I’d be happy to be trapped in some treacherous situation with you, it seems like you’re nearly immortal yourself.”

Discordia laughed weakly. “I guess it does seem like that, huh?” She sighed. “But, you didn’t let me get to the _infection._ I was running through the woods and water barefoot—actually REALLY barefoot considering the burns—and as a result, my wounds ended up very gross. I quickly found myself ill after maybe... two days of wandering the Whispering Wood.  It hurt to walk, to breathe, to _live_... I thought I was going to die; Baphomet had only promised me surviving the fire, so I thought I was resigned to die of my infection. I... don’t remember much of this part, but on I think... the fourth day, I lost my ability to walk completely. I couldn’t move at all, actually, and my vision was blurry. The last thing I remember seeing before completely blacking out was Sera.”

“You were saved by Sera?” Aphrodisius sounded surprised; he had reduced the cleric to an angry fighting dog for her wife, based on his interactions with her and the handful of times he’d been the target of verbal attacks by her. 

Discordia nodded. “She saved my life, though she couldn’t heal me completely due to her condition. Either way, I would’ve died out there without her.” 

“So, that’s how you ended up here, then?”

“...In a way, yes,” Discordia nodded after pondering the question a bit. “Though, I wasn’t a follower for a while.”

“You’re telling me there are people living here who AREN’T cultists?” Aphrodisius seemed mystified at the revelation, caught staring down at her in disbelief.

“Yes, but they always come around eventually. Delu’seer or Sera will have a long talk with them that lasts... I think three days, and then they’ll realize just how much sense their teachings make!” Discordia beamed as if she hadn’t just described some form of emotional torture. 

“So... you’re saying you only believed in her after she had you alone with her—or Sera—for three days with no food, water, or sleep?” Aphrodisius had no issue showing his disapproval of this. 

“Mhm.” Discordia nodded. “I didn’t really get it at first, Our Lady Death said that it took me longer than most because I was so poisoned by the religions of Prudence.” 

“Are you sure it wasn’t because you’re smart?” Aphrodisius took interest in this note. “This sounds like brainwashing to me. It’s the only way I can imagine you’d believe any of the things they preach.” 

“Brainwashed?” Discordia seemed puzzled, “of course not! I—“

She was interrupted by a knocking at her door. “Discordia! Is that you? Who’s with you? The cathedral is supposed to be vacant except for staff!” The voice was one she easily recognized as May, the middle head of the local three-headed geitlan. 

“Hide under the bed, quick!” Discordia practically jumped off of Aphrodisius who now felt somewhat exposed without her resting against him. He was quick to comply, making sure to grab his shirt and cape before ducking under the bed. Once he was hidden, Discordia went to answer the door. 

“Chi! May! Ra! I’m so sorry for disturbing you, I was just talking to myself again!” Discordia laughed nervously, glancing over at the silencing sigil in the wall to see it had, indeed, run out while she had been distracted. 

The goat woman narrowed her eyes. “You should be quieter, I thought Our Lady Death already spoke with you about this.” She huffed through her nose and shook her head. “I assume the wedding was too much for—“ Her eyes suddenly shot open, glowing red, and her body began to twitch uncomfortably, limbs popping and cracking as she moved as if suddenly overtaken by an outside force. 

Discordia knew what was happening, but Aphrodisius could only look on in bewilderment from his place under the bed as the goat began to speak once more, but this time, with _Delu’seer’s_ voice.

“Discordia,” The lich greeted through her host, “I was just looking for you.”

“You were? I apologize!” Discordia bowed, but it was clear she was horrified; one could practically _feel_ the waves of fear flowing out from her. 

“Yes, yes,” The goat nodded in the Dread goddess’ stead, “I thought you might be here; I was just making sure you were, considering our esteemed guest Aphrodisius also has vanished from attendance.” Her eyes bored into Discordia’s very being, inspecting each and every movement, searching for any hint of disobedience.

“O-Oh, I’ve been here the whole time!” Discordia nervously responded, maintaining her composure. “Just in my room, waiting for your return! As usual!”

“I would hope so.” Aphrodisius almost felt jealous watching the interaction between Discordia and her parasitic queen; he knew Delu’seer’s voice just had a certain sultry sound to it naturally, but he couldn’t help but feel she was intruding on something he wanted all to himself in the way she was speaking to Discordia. “Now,” Delu’seer’s voice could be heard once more, “I shall be staying in Cordia’s care for the night and the rest of our party shall be staying in guest rooms at the palace; you may rest, but be prepared for our return tomorrow. Cordia will be returning with us for her formal introduction to Delusia.”

“Yes, of course, My Lady!” Discordia bowed to her quickly. “Everything will be ready just as you like it when you return, I promise!”

But, was she promising, really? Would she even _be there_ tomorrow? Discordia and Aphrodisius shared a similar thought at that moment. 

“Good girl,” the goddess praised her handmaiden, patting her on the head, before seeming to exit Chi-May-Ra’s consciousness; the red glow faded from her vision and the gietlan shook her head, confused for a moment.

“Our Lady Death will be returning tomorrow morning; she says she wants a grand feast planned!” Discordia exclaimed, causing the cook’s ears to shoot up. 

“Was that the purpose of her visitation? I will prepare at once.” With that, she made away swiftly, her hooves clicking on the floor as she rushed to check her food stores. 

Discordia shut the door and sighed with relief, feeling more stressed at that moment than she had in what felt like the last few hours. Aphrodisius crawled out from under the bed, setting his cape and shirt back on the bed before approaching her.

“Does Delu’seer do that often? Possession?” He asked, “has she done it to you?” 

“Only when necessary. It’s something we must accept before initiation; and it isn’t possession, we’re a hivemind. She can do that at any time she wants.” Discordia explained. “But, to answer your other question, very rarely. Usually, only when I’m with Sera.” 

Aphrodisius wasn’t totally surprised, but he was still shocked that Discordia saw nothing wrong with this. “How do you think this is all okay?” He hoped he was making his concern very clear. “She hurts you, berates you, you sacrifice all of your time hurting and berating yourself _FOR_ her, and you have little free will! You MUST see that there is better than this!”

Discordia looked down, but the look in her eyes gave him hope; _doubt_. It was entirely possible, he realized, that she was just in denial because she hoped one day it would get better. Perhaps his words were stirring something in her, pushing her towards accepting the truth.

“Discordia, darlin’,” Aphrodisius lowered his tone so he wouldn’t be misinterpreted, “Delu’seer doesn’t know what’s best for you—all of this,” he gestured to the room around them, “is for her benefit. And if she truly thinks she’s helping anyone with the pain she forces you and the other followers to go through, she’s delusional.” 

Discordia looked up at him, nervousness clouding her gaze. “But... I don’t... I don’t really know anything else...” She looked around as if afraid someone would hear. “I... I don’t want to die, Aphrodisius. I think I know for sure now. You have... shown me that I could be cared for, a-and I’m a coward anyway. I... suppose I don’t even fit in here anymore by that criterion alone...” 

“Yes! That’s good!” Aphrodisius hugged her. “Please, I can take you away from this place! Come with me and she’ll never be able to lay a hand on you again; you will be loved by everyone, I swear to you.” He sounded so _pleading_... but genuine. 

Discordia wrapped her arms around his neck and looked up at him, uncertainty clear in her brown eyes. “I... think I _want_ to,” she admitted, “but I don’t know if I’m queen material... I wouldn’t want you to take me there and then I’m... not good enough at it.” She looked away, but the now very excited king turned her gaze back to him.

“No one is royalty material period without training, I wasn’t even all that great at it growing up, ” Aphrodisius reassured, “you would be given the means to succeed as my Queen. I would help you learn your duties and once you got the hang of it, my courtiers would take over in my place so you could understand how to work with them as well.” 

He made it sound easy, but it surely wouldn’t be. “What if they didn’t like me?” 

“They will,” Aphrodisius insisted, “they have to deal with _me_ , remember. They’ll probably regard you as a blessing on them.” He smiled comfortingly, leaning in to press his forehead to hers. 

Discordia’s heart raced as she stared into his eyes, searching them for traces of any trickery—she found none. He was being sincere—he did love her; and if he didn’t, then he was very good at pretending. 

“If I believe all this... and I agree to be your queen...” She started slowly. “Then all of this will stop? I won’t have to suffer anymore?”

“I can’t cure trauma,” Aphrodisius admitted softly, “but I think Ehmphyriat is a better place for you than here. You will never be second to anyone again.”

“Not even you?”

“We would be equals in power,” Aphrodisius promised. “Two halves of one unit.” 

The silence following, though short, felt as if it lasted a thousand years. Both still in each other’s arms, hearts racing as they waited for an answer to hit the air. Discordia went over the night in her mind, reliving every single moment, and then considered how that compared to her life as a handmaiden. 

“I...” Discordia started, taking note of the excitement in Aphrodisius’ eyes, “...still don’t know...” She felt a little bit bad, watching him die a little inside when she spoke her uncertainty once more, but she truly was still conflicted. Her mind felt like a mess of damaged wires—she needed time to relax to think it over. 

Aphrodisius seemed a bit tense, still. “Very well. We still have time.” Discordia then felt him stiffen up further—was he nervous? “What time is it, speaking of which?” He asked; definitely nervous.

“It should be around 12:00 by now.” Discordia answered, suddenly realizing why he was distressed. 

The king released her from his arms. “Ah...that is... never mind—I believe you wanted to stitch up my shirt? And we still haven’t looked at any of those old projects of yours.” He suddenly sounded... _odd._ Discordia was now worried he was upset with her somehow; there was something irate in his voice, similar to how he had sounded earlier before he got mad. 

Discordia nodded and shuffled over to the desk next to her bed, where she pulled out a large folder labeled “failures”. She handed it to him and softly stated, “I’m sure you can make something of these without my instruction.” With that, she turned to refill the sigil with her magic to prevent any more interruptions. 

Aphrodisius was alarmed by how weak Discordia suddenly sounded; he hoped he didn’t upset her on accident with his tone. It was true he was irritated, but it wasn’t her fault the night wasn’t going as he had planned. 

_I should’ve just snuck her a letter as I passed her by on the ballroom floor, then found some loophole to court her the normal way,_ he thought. _This plan was too impulsive; perhaps my advisors had a point this time. She won’t accept my proposal, at least not after only a few, lackluster hours together—this should’ve been much more grandiose._ He tried his best to focus on Discordia’s notes, but he was just too angry with himself. It was _embarrassing_! A minor god known for being able to seduce anyone he wanted with ease and yet, he couldn’t have the only one he actually felt things for. 

_No, of course not,_ he shook his head, _this is surely my mother’s doing. Punishing me for my unwanted existence by preventing me from experiencing the love that she brings forth in people. Aphrodite herself is willing me to make these fool’s errors in the presence of someone as perfect as Discordia—she is making sure I upset her as frequently as I have been, making sure all of my plans are ruined by some force—be it Delu’seer, her subjects, or her evil forest—Tartarus, I even forgot to ask her to dance in my absentminded fawning! He gritted his teeth as he thought, this gift I’ve been born with, to be eternally filled with lust, was her curse upon me!_

“I-I finished fixing your shirt,” Discordia nervously piped up. She certainly did take after her mother in that aspect—she worked _very_ quickly and efficiently, no wonder Delu’seer made her a handmaiden. “And... I... am sorry for being so indecisive. I can’t blame you for probably feeling lead on; b-but I don’t mean to! I really like you, Aphrodisius, I swear! I just... am not good at making decisions.” She offered the king his shirt, looking away with her already naturally sad-looking eyes forlorn. 

“What?” Aphrodisius was too surprised to notice he had been offered something. “Discordia, you’re fine! I’m not upset!” She didn’t seem satisfied with that answer. He looked away from her as she moved closer to him, trying to search his eyes for any other answer. It would be too embarrassing for him to admit to anything on his mind; he was supposed to be flawless and he wasn’t sure he wanted to acknowledge the ones he tried his best to hide. 

Though... maybe it would benefit him to be vulnerable to her, just as she had been to him. _But, she makes it seem so easy,_ he thought. _I’m not even sure I’m physically capable of saying these things out loud!_

“Are you sure?” Discordia pressed. “You don’t have to lie to me if I upset you. I understand if you think I’m not put together well enough for—“

“Silence!” Aphrodisius cut her off, clearly upset. Discordia shied away from him instinctively, though she didn’t seem frightened. Aphrodisius recoiled in response. “I apologize for raising my voice... again.” He seemed nervous to continue but pressed on. “It is... just difficult to express what’s on my mind. It is not you, however, so I’ll not have you berate yourself.” The king reached out to her, hoping to pull her close so they could change the uncomfortable topic and look over her notes together, but Discordia had other plans.

The witch grabbed his hand, but when he attempted to pull her over, she tugged back, harder, dragging the surprised king forward onto her. 

Aphrodisius looked down at her in surprise. “Discordia, darlin’, if this is what I think it is, you chose an odd time to send out that invitation.” Being himself, he thought she might be offering herself up to him, despite the odd timing. “Why not when I was poking fun at you earlier?”

Discordia laughed, “oh, no, this isn’t anything like that, doll! I’m just trying to return the favor.” She smiled up at him but continued to explain when he looked confused. “I mean, it’s your turn to lay on _me_ and tell me _your_ issues.” 

“It’s not that easy,” Aphrodisius protested, letting his head rest against her chest. He thought he probably looked funny, resting atop a woman who was probably a whole foot shorter than him at least; he was probably crushing her, but yet she was demanding him stay there by wrapping an arm around him just as he had done for her.

_Maybe she likes the weight,_ he thought. _I know I certainly don’t mind being crushed under someone’s full body weight from time to time..._

“Well, I can tell you’re upset, so I think you should try anyway. I owe you.” Discordia moved her free hand to the side of his face and twirled a strand of his hair around her finger, an act that Aphrodisius was strangely shocked by. 

His eyes widened a bit as his brain registered the shower of affection she was giving him— _genuine_ affection. 

“I...” Aphrodisius was almost at a loss for words, but he suddenly was filled with a new determination to open himself to her. “You don’t owe me, darlin’... but, if you insist to know... I have never felt the way you make me feel, Discordia. I mean that truly.” He shut his eyes and leaned into her touch. “No one has shown me this type of affection before; I am the object of everyone’s lust, which I don’t mind, but I had no idea how much different it would feel to be...” The king searched for a proper term to use. “... cared for in this way. I wouldn’t dare assume you’re in love with me, not yet, but this feels close to it.” 

Discordia smiled gently at him. “That’s very sweet of you, Aphrodisius.” She ran a hand through his hair, a gesture he didn’t expect to enjoy as much as he did. “It’s unfortunate that no one has given you a real chance,” she offered her sympathy, “that must feel so terrible, being a love-related deity.” 

“I don’t mind it,” Aphrodisius countered, sounding a bit defensive still, “being lusted after is sort of... what I exist for, being God of Allure. However... that doesn’t feel as good as this.” He grumbled, “I am convinced my mother cursed me at my birth to be loveless; so it surprises me you’re still here despite being unsure of your heart.” 

Discordia frowned. “Why would she curse you? If she only saw you when you were a baby, she should’ve had no reason to bear any resentment for you.”

“I don’t know,” Aphrodisius admitted, speaking a sentence he rarely ever even _thought._ “Perhaps it’s because I _was_ a baby. I have my father’s red blood, as you know, thus I had to go through the aging process to become an adult, rather than just... appearing. I suspect the Goddess of Love and Beauty wasn’t a fan of carrying me around for nine months and the idea of having to take care of me was even worse.” The king sighed and let himself go almost limp against Discordia as she caressed him. “I was a burden to her; the product of a one night stand, never meant to exist in her eyes.” 

“Don’t say that!” Discordia gasped, surprised at how depressing and dark the depths of Aphrodisius’ mind were. He always presented himself so confidently, as if nothing could bother him—it was a shock to learn that some things _did._

“It is the truth, whether I’d like to accept it or not,” Aphrodisius spoke against her chest. “I am imperfect inside, painfully so. Look at us here, making a mess of each other, because I foolishly assumed you’d be drawn to me in the same way everyone else is and, in that belief, didn’t plan anything after going to the restaurant since you would’ve said “yes” by now.” He sought for her hand and grabbed it with surprising force.  My assumptions were inaccurate and impulsive; you are different, beautifully so. I crave your touch more than I have ever craved anything in my life... yet this curse of mine makes everything I do upset you or cause a mess.” Aphrodisius let out a long breath. “I never make these amateur mistakes... of course they only occur in the presence of the only person I’ve ever _permanently_ wanted.” Aphrodisius was surprised at how much he was able to say; it was starting to come out naturally, though he still felt _horribly_ embarrassed.

Discordia giggled, making his head shoot up in alarm. “Aphrodisius! You haven’t done anything wrong! I’ve enjoyed everything you’ve done for me tonight, even if I’m still thinking it over.”

“Oh, even so, you don’t have to laugh,” Aphrodisius grumbled, dejectedly, resting his head back down on her chest. 

“Aphrodisius, you’ve never made a mistake because you’ve never been in _love_ before! I’m laughing at you because you’re thinking too hard about it!” Discordia pulled his face closer to hers in order to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’re a god primarily focusing on lust, _of course_ you wouldn’t know how to smoothly go about genuine romance! And since you’re powers are lust-driven, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re only able to feel lust in other people—I think you _think_ you can read people for love, but I’m not sure you can and maybe that’s what’s bothering you when you try to read me!” 

Aphrodisius felt his face growing hot with embarrassment. “...That... may be true. But, I still have done nothing to prove I am worthy of your approval.” He wasn’t sure what was evoking him to be so sappy and weak, but he was glad that only Discordia was around to see it.

“Actually,” Discordia gazed at him softly, locking him in his place basking in her glow, “you’ve only made me more and more interested the longer we spend together.” She reassured, keeping her tender gaze on him. 

“I’ve made a fool of myself multiple times and rose my voice at you,” Aphrodisius sounded perplexed, “how does that make me more desirable? I pride myself on confidence and skill, that’s what I’m wanted by thousands for and, yet, you prefer these flawed attributes. It makes no sense to me.” 

“Aphrodisius,” Discordia cupped his face with her hands, “I love _all_ of you. Your mistakes, your flaws, they make you special... and they make you look a lot funnier when you mess up, considering you’re always trying to be perfect.” She wanted to laugh at how baffled he looked, hearing her say that. “And, since you’re only willing to share these vulnerabilities with me,” she admitted, “it makes me feel special. Everything you’ve done has, actually. No one’s ever made me feel so... wanted.” 

Aphrodisius stared at her in amazement for a few more moments, before practically lunging at her for a kiss, taking her by—pleasant—surprise. Discordia was happy to reciprocate, finding herself very fond of physical affection, despite how new it was to her. They stayed connected for a long moment, relishing in the feeling the other gave them; a rush of warmth combined with a fluttery feeling, but it was something they both desperately needed. 

Aphrodisius was still amazed at the difference in how he felt kissing her compared to any random hookup he’d had previously. It was odd how the heart worked that way... no one had ever been able to make his head spin with such a simple gesture before. In the back of his mind, he felt that familiar annoying fire of want starting to come close to the forefront of his mind—and that is when he pulled away. _She’s special,_ he reminded himself, _you will not lay a hand on her unless she explicitly requests it. Not here, either._

Discordia brought him back to reality when she giggled, seeing how fondly he gazed down at her. The warmth in his eyes was unmatched to anything she’d ever seen before, and in him, he looked a little funny, considering his face was normally stuck with some iteration of a sharp-eyed, cocky grin. 

Aphrodisius chuckled softly, “Are you happy now?” He asked, amused. “Look what you’ve made of me, I’m a mushy mess.”

“A very charming mushy mess,” Discordia laughed. “I’m happy you opened up to me, _mushy.”_

“Gods above, do not call me that.” Aphrodisius groaned in overdramatic agony. “What we discussed here stays between us... I don’t need everyone alive knowing I think of my mother _at all.”_

“Your issues are safe with me,” Discordia beamed. “I think I like the idea of being the only one you confide in.” 

Aphrodisius grinned. “I’d be happy to have you around to confide in forever; you fit that role—and many others—quite nicely.” He poked her nose playfully. 

Discordia hummed gently, amused. “We’ll see. How about you give me until dawn to give you a solid answer on that?”

“Dawn?” Aphrodisius seemed surprised. “I’d love to, darlin’, but I don’t have anything else planned.” He seemed disheartened, lifting himself off of her to sit down on the bed and start putting his shirt and cape back on. “And, you must rest at some point, as all mortals do. It seems inconvenient to pull you from your home now that we’re here.”

“You didn’t get a good chance to look over my work, though!” Discordia pointed out, sitting up beside him. “We could just take the folder to wherever you’re staying tonight and look over it together there. It’d be safer to snuggle up to you there, too...” She batted her eyes at him, knowing full well it wouldn’t take more than that to win him over. 

Aphrodisius was relieved to hear the suggestion—he hadn’t wanted to ask her to accompany him to the inn out of fear of his intentions looking less than pure. However, since she was asking to go, there was no reason to tell her no. And, considering she was suddenly very willing to share her work, it clued him into the fact that she might actually be desperate for more of his closeness. 

“If you would like that, I’d be happy to share a room with you.” Aphrodisius smiled down at her, hoping she wouldn’t be able to tell how badly he had been hoping to hear her ask. 

“I’d love to,” Discordia hugged him before reaching over his lap to grab the folder he’d dropped onto the bed when she pulled him. “And I can try to make another portal to get us to Rostille faster; did we visit any place near the inn?” 

She had stated that was a risky spell she didn’t like doing earlier— _definitely_ desperate... or perhaps her mind was already made and she was simply holding onto her answer to mess with him.   
  
  
  
_Something tells me she_ would _be one to do such a torturous thing..._ Aphrodisius mused.  


“The docks we left to come here,” Aphrodisius answered, thinly masking his excitement at the idea of traveling through the magic realm once more. 

“Alright then!” Discordia beamed, happier than she’d felt in a long while. “Give me a few moments and we’ll be back in Rostille in no time at all!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang this took a while, sorry about that! My brother has Covid so the next chapter might come out sooner due to quarantine preventing me from working... and also that might change the rating if I can fit all that in naturally.
> 
> I don’t know if I have much else to say, other than that I think this is the first time I ever got to talk about Discordia’s origins in detail which is fun for me since I’ve been waiting I think a YEAR to actually write it all out from her perspective, at least
> 
> Anyway, since it's been a while--if you're new and not from my twitter somehow, you can follow me @tellie_vision to know what these people look like + more of my stuff


	5. The Inn...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aphrodisius and Discordia find their way to the inn after a few mishaps—once again, they get distracted from the notes and discuss witch magic again. This time, however, Discordia thinks they won’t be doing anything related to notes in the next chapter if she has anything to say about it.

Discordia’s successful spell opened up at the Rostillian dock they’d parted from earlier. Aphrodisius was quick to step out, offering his partner a hand to help her onto solid ground. 

“Thank you,” Discordia shook herself, as if being in the magic realm had addled her; if not that, then perhaps Aphrodisius’ assorted dumb questions—or, they were from her perspective—had caused her physical damage.

_“What would happen if I used my magic while we’re in here?” Aphrodisius asked, marveling at the raw energy swirling around once again._

_ “Well,” Discordia started, “a better question would be, what would happen if  I used my magic in here. And the answer to that is, I would be able to operate much like a sorcerer, like yourself.” _

_ “So, it would be no different?”_

_ “No, your magic is not meant to be cast directly into the field. You would create a rift in the field that would collapse the wormhole and kill us both.” _

_ “ _ Oh _.” _

It amazed Discordia how someone so smart could manage to somehow be such an idiot at the same exact time. Maybe it was the impatience. She wondered just how much he'd be able to accomplish if he could be bothered to wait for more than five seconds.

“Your very welcome, darlin’.” Aphrodisius waited for her to fully recollect herself before offering her his hand once more. “We’ll be staying there,” the king pointed to a fancy building down the nearest street—the most expensive inn in the kingdom, of course. 

“You certainly aren’t very frugal,” Discordia spoke, amused. “That place costs thousands for just a single night!” 

“I like to be comfortable,” Aphrodisius shrugged. “It just so happens that, that usually involves a lot of money.” 

This didn’t surprise Discordia. He seemed to go out of his way to flaunt his wealth when possible; she was actually surprised she hadn’t seen more explicit shows of materialism than she had. Aphrodisius was probably the wealthiest man alive—king of the most powerful and prosperous kingdom and also the owner of the only peacock farm in the entire world; you wouldn’t find the exotic birds anywhere else and thus, the price on peacock feathers was unimaginably high. Due to the feathers being hard to obtain, they became somewhat of a status symbol--especially in the south--and Aphrodisius owned a LOT of those feathers. Discordia had expected to see him dressed more formally than he was, but then again... he really didn’t have any reason to dress up for his political rival’s wedding; he probably kept his normal attire on out of spite. 

“Coming?” Aphrodisius grabbed her hand and turned to lead her towards the inn. 

“Of course!” Discordia nodded, moving to stand beside him. “But, should you really be holding my hand here? The elite are more likely to expose us and this place is probably full of them.” 

“What is life without risks?” Aphrodisius grinned in response, clearly not caring if their being together was challenged. 

_Or maybe he’s just thinking he’ll kill anyone who threatens us,_ Discordia mused.  _That sounds like a very Aphrodisius thing to do._

The inn wasn’t particularly far away, so it didn’t take the pair long to reach it. Guards were posted outside; something new that Aphrodisius hadn’t accounted for. 

Discordia could sense he was fuming. “Were they not there before?”

“No. Delu’seer must’ve had Concordia send them here; she’s suspicious of whatever I’m doing, I doubt they’re looking for you, since as far as they know you're in Delusia.” Aphrodisius sounded thoroughly annoyed. “Though, we can't let them see you anyway. We’ll have to find another way in, around them.” 

Discordia groaned in frustration. She had been so excited to finally just lay down in his company, _of course_ something would get in the way of her happiness yet again! She then caught herself—she was annoyed with the actions of her goddess;  the actions she found ridiculous and annoying were made by the one she was supposed to show endless admiration and respect.

Though, when she thought about it, this wasn’t the first time she’d questioned her goddess’ actions. 

“Relax, I’ll find you a safe route in, I promise,” Aphrodisius soothed. “Here, let me go in first; I’ll try to pay off the guards and staff—again—and if that doesn’t work...” he paused for dramatic effect,  _“you’ll know.”_

“So, when do I know when it’s safe to go in if the first plan doesn’t work?”

“They’ll be too busy with me to notice an unaccounted guest sneaking in.” Aphrodisius gestured to her with a hand as he finished. “And, in that case, my suite is the grand one on the top floor. You can’t miss it.” He patted her on the head lightly. “You stay right here for now, though.”

Discordia nodded and watched him saunter off to deal with the guards, hoping it wouldn’t be anything difficult; though, nothing seemed too difficult for Aphrodisius when she thought about it. 

Aphrodisius approached the two guards, donning the charismatic smile he was often seen with. “Greetings,” he caught their attention as he approached and they bowed their heads respectfully.

“Greetings, Your Majesty,” the pair said in unison. Seeing them up close, Aphrodisius found he recognized the pair as two of Cordia’s personal guards—the tabaxi siblings, Britannia and Brunswick—this arrangement was definitely something to do with him.

“Might I ask why you two are suddenly posted here? I thought you’d be guarding your High Priestess—or, I suppose,  Queen now.” The king did his best to appear harmless; it was a simple question and he needed to make sure they didn’t find any depth to it.

“Strict orders from Queen Concordia on behalf of Dread Queen Delu’seer,” Britannia answered. “We are to make sure you do not have any Delusians in your company, though we were requested to encourage you not to take any women into your company at all.” 

“Oh, please! You can’t possibly stand out here and deny me the pleasures of the flesh all night!” Aphrodisius let out an exasperated cry of anguish. “I promise you I won’t be tainting any Delusians tonight; I know better than to anger Delu’seer. Your presence is not needed.” 

“No disrespect intended, Your Majesty, but that is not your order to give,” Brunswick interjected. 

“But, certainly you can look the other way for me, just this once...” Aphrodisius locked the shorter man in his gaze and was pleased to see his eyes brighten a bit. 

_Ha! Not even the enemy can resist me!_ He thought, triumphantly.  _Though, Britannia will be much less easy to convince..._

“W-Well, I think we wouldn’t mind letting you pass, if not for our orders,” Brunswick offered weakly, overtaken by a sudden, strong feeling of want. 

“Brunswick!” The yellow cat’s more silver-colored sister broke in harshly, “do not let his charms catch you so easily! We have a job to do!” 

“A pointless job,” Aphrodisius cut in, “I’ll find a way to do my worst even with you two standing here. I’ll simply find another way in.” 

“We’ll follow after you, then!” Brunswick sprung up defensively, shaking himself of his lust for a second. 

“Oh? Be my guest. It won’t stop me,” Aphrodisius laughed, breaking away from the main path to begin patrolling around the inn in search of another entrance. The two tabaxi stared on, bewildered for a moment that he was actually set on breaking in right in front of them, but they quickly broke from it and hurried after him. 

Discordia, who had been watching on, took this as a sign for her to make her entrance—why wait when she could easily make her way in now? Carefully, she made her way up the path to the inn and slipped inside, quietly thanking Aphrodisius for being such a good distraction—he was quite good at that, she thought, blushing at the thought. 

The inside of the inn was a lot to take in. It was structured similarly to all the other buildings in Rostille, but still seemed much more grandiose than its lesser counterparts. She took note that the attendant at the desk was turned around; she decided she’d best not gawk at the sights and hurry while she had such a good opening. 

She hurried up the grand staircase, fear clinging to her chest at the idea of being caught, and luckily only tripped once in the process—right at the top. The handmaiden was displeased to find even more stairs down the hall she found herself in, but she supposed she’d better just deal with it. Aphrodisius _did_ say he was at the top, after all. 

By the time she reached his suite, however, she realized his plan had not accounted for one thing: how she would get into the locked room without a key. Luckily, it was a private suite so she probably wouldn’t be caught waiting for Aphrodisius to find her—though, she reminded herself she had to stay wary. 

_ Maybe there’s a spare key somewhere... _Discordia thought, kneeling down to feel under the doormat.  _Or not,_ she sighed in defeat when nothing came into her grasp. She resigned to sitting on the floor in front of the door until her partner finished whatever escapade he’d led the guards on. Suddenly, her heart leaped up in her chest—his plan had involved getting rid of the threat of the guards AND the attendant at the desk, the latter of whom she’d snuck past without his knowledge. 

_Oh no! He‘s going to go back to where we started and think something horrible happened to me while he wasn’t there!_ Discordia slapped a hand to her face, cursing herself for thinking too quickly.  _I should’ve just waited! He’s not going to take the time to think of any other thing that could’ve happened!_ She went over her options: she could risk going back to where they started to seek him out, or she could stay waiting. 

_ Surely, he’ll come up here looking eventually? He’ll have to consider the possibility eventually!_

While Discordia pondered the idea of Aphrodisius using his brain as he should in a panic, he was out doing the opposite. Panicking, running around like a mother duck who’d lost one of her ducklings, and definitely not putting any of his advanced intellect to use. 

_She’s MISSING now? I’ve been cursed! I truly have been cursed!_

After charming the two guards off a cliff and into the ocean—they were probably fine, he thought he saw them moving—he had returned to tell Discordia of his success; from there, he would’ve boldly entered the inn with her on his arm, shocking whoever was wandering about and bringing all the attention to him. After they recovered from their shock, he would do whatever means to keep them quiet, putting on another show of his clever diplomatic skill to impress Discordia further. Discordia would surely be so impressed with both his boldness and skill, that she would accept his proposal right there, further shocking those around and—!

_ Aphrodisius! Focus! She’s missing! _He scolded himself for fantasizing when such an important task was at hand.  Now, if the guards didn’t do away with her, where could she have gone?  The king stopped his frantic searching and thought for a moment. The Delusians could have taken her, having hidden themselves from sight—but he didn’t see signs of a struggle. She could’ve gone into the inn, he supposed, but in order to stay, she’d have to say she was with him which, one, would probably sound unbelievable to the attendant and two, would most likely get her in trouble with Delu’seer if they believed her. 

Though, if she went into the inn, perhaps they would hold her there to be collected by Delusian officials! Perhaps asking the attendant if they’d seen her would lead him to her. Aphrodisius let out a long breath to collect himself, then ceased his frantic searching and headed towards the inn once more, this time going inside. If she had been captured for collection, he was fully prepared to fight his way to her. 

“Good evening,” the king greeted the attendant, who turned away from whatever they’d been working on to greet him in turn. “I was wondering if you’d seen anyone enter recently—specifically; short, stout, blue hair?”

“I’m afraid not, Your Majesty,” they shook their head, though they seemed nervous; something Aphrodisius noted as odd and could be exploited.

“Are you sure?” The king loomed over the poor attendant and slammed his hands onto the desk, staring them down, “you seem a bit nervous.” His voice had a slight harsh undertone to it; a subtle threat. 

The attendant looked horrified at the prospect of angering the king and his rumored short, explosive temper. They gulped hard and stuttered, “w-well, Your Majesty, I-I admit I haven’t been paying that much attention,” they admitted fearfully, “I s-suppose she could’ve passed by without m-me noticing...?” They offered, hoping it was sufficient. 

Aphrodisius kept the attendant locked in that same, hard stare as he spoke, “thank you. That will be all.” Still holding the lesser in his gaze, he slowly took his hands off the table and walked off towards the stairs, hoping that meant Discordia had just gotten lucky and was waiting for him in his suite. He swiftly went up each flight, not bothering to look around and waste time. About two-thirds the way to his goal, he toppled over someone who happened to on their way down, causing them to yelp in surprise as they landed hard on the steps below.

“Discordia! You  _are_ here after all!” Aphrodisius exclaimed from his place above her. “Oh, but have I harmed you? I apologize for running you over, I was worried!” 

“Not any worse than anyone else has,” Discordia laughed weakly. “But, you oughta be quieter! I thought we had to be careful!” 

“Yes, of course.” Aphrodisius nodded, getting to his feet and dusting himself off before leaning down to help Discordia up. “We should hurry up to my room, I’m sure you’re aching to rest and we're only putting you in more danger waiting our time out here.” 

Discordia was happy to let Aphrodisius lead her back up the steps, glad that he hadn’t run around too much before finding her. He unlocked the door to the grand suite with a key he pulled from one of his pants pockets once they stood before the door. With the door opened, Discordia was amazed at just how fancy the room before her was and she assumed the connected ones were just as much. Lots of gold, bronze, and marble involved, along with a variety of lovely potted plants. 

The inn as a whole also was lit by firefly lamps, as most of the capitol of Rostille was. Something relating to fear of the forest across the inlet tearing down the city if they used too much fire—though, of course, that didn’t stop some places from using it strictly because it “looked nicer”. Luckily for Discordia, this place was not one of them—and she quite enjoyed the dim lighting the fireflies offered. Coming from Delusia, where the citizens rarely saw direct or strong sunlight, she wasn’t a fan of bright lights. 

Aphrodisius coughed lightly, urging her to enter before him out of politeness. Discordia was quick to comply and the king shut the door behind them. He sighed with relief, finally being in a place that he was confident was safe for both of them for now. 

“Please, feel free to make yourself comfortable,” He spoke up as Discordia continued to marvel at the beautiful interior and decor. “I must make some arrangements with my courtiers on the floor below, but I will return swiftly—and I can bring back something for us to snack on if you’re hungry or thirsty.” These arrangements were emergency escape arrangements, in the case that the Delusians caught wind of Discordia's betrayal.

Discordia looked wary at the notion of him leaving, but she nodded anyway, hoping to hide any hint of this. “I’m a bit thirsty.” 

“I’ll see what they have at this hour, then,” Aphrodisius smiled, hoping to comfort her. “Ah, and that dress of yours,” he looked her over as if to reaffirm what he was about to say, “it looks uncomfortable—it isn’t much, but, if it would be more comfortable for you, you could wear my robe instead; it’s hung up in the bathing room.” He pointed to a door to the right of the king-size bed in the back center of the room. 

“Thank you,” Discordia sighed with relief at the idea of getting out of the extremely tight dress. Just the thought of taking off her heels made her want to melt. 

Aphrodisius nodded to her, “then, I shall return shortly; you just relax there.” He then exited, taking a quick glance back at her before shutting the door.

Discordia made her way to the bathing room after tossing her bag onto the bed and a minute of hesitation. It was just as grand as the main room; and not just because it had a private bath, which Discordia found herself puzzled by. The public bathhouses were always filled with water, you just added hot coals to heat it—with this, you’d have to lug bucket after bucket of water up the steps yourself just to fill the bath! What was luxury about that? 

Taking her attention away from the bath, she found Aphrodisius’ robe hung up on the wall near the entrance. It was green, as she had presumed, with a gold “A” in a fancy font on one side of the chest. Much like his normal attire, it was split wide on top to expose the chest area—Discordia hoped it wouldn’t be too far, considering, unlike Aphrodisius, she had things that needed to be  contained. Nevertheless, she would never know unless she tried it on. 

She slipped off her heels first, to rest her aching feet on the cold marble of the floor. The soreness in her heels when they were pressed directly to the floor made her wince as her body begged for any way to take the pressure off them. 

Next to come off were her fishnets. Discordia grimaced at the sight of her exposed legs, covered from the knee down in a map of ugly, uncomfortable scars. The tightness of the skin made it painful to walk, despite all of the surgical operations she’d had to remedy the issue; though, it had been worse at one time. She recalled coming to in the care of the Delusians the night she’d been found near death in the woods and hearing Sera and another cleric requesting a traditional doctor come in to split and re-stitch the skin on her contracture-covered legs. She hadn’t known it at the time, but that doctor would later inform Discordia that the contracture scars were partially why she’d lost her ability to walk; the skin had begun tightening to a point that made movement impossible. Discordia shook her head, trying to shake the memory of the horrible pain away. 

The gloves went next as she turned her attention away from her legs. Her heart leaped into her throat at the sight of her arms, which she had somehow forgotten were covered in scars of a different kind. They were mostly from the offering process or rituals, Discordia would try to defend herself, but she knew there was an underlying reason as to why she was always finding excuses to give up her blood. She hoped Aphrodisius didn’t see. 

Reaching a hand up to her neck, she felt the rose-like design of her special choker. She easily unclasped it, in turn removing its effects from her as she set it down on the nearby wood rack that held all the suite’s towels. The second the choker unclasped, her complicated hairstyle unraveled itself and dropped down to its normal wavy state, arranging itself loosely over her shoulders. 

Discordia then looked down at her body and suddenly felt anxious about peeling off the small black dress she’d forced herself into earlier that night. It felt odd to be exposing herself in such a strange place, even if she knew she was alone. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the hem of the black cloth and pulled it upwards, releasing her heavy hips from its death grip. She had to stop there for a second, letting out a sigh of relief as the largest and most squeezed part of her was finally able to relax. Continuing from there, she pulled it up over her stomach and then her bust, which she was also happy to release from the prison of her clothing. Since her escape to Delusia, she’d taken to not wearing a bra since the feeling of her bust being compressed became increasingly uncomfortable as she gained more and more weight—she didn’t remember just how uncomfortable it felt until having to wear that dress again. Finally, she pulled the outfit over her head and tossed it to the floor with just as much resentment as she felt for it. 

She caught a glimpse of her mostly nude figure in the mirror set on the wall across the room and instinctively drew her hands up to cover her chest, as if being exposed to herself was just as strange as being exposed to a stranger. Discordia sighed and shook her head, collecting herself and letting her arms drop. She regarded her figure indifferently; she wasn’t completely happy with it, but it felt odder than anything to be inspecting it since she usually tried her best to avoid doing so. 

_ What does he see_ _,_ she wondered, tracing down her curves and taking note of each stretch mark or line or flap in her flesh where her weight seemed to centralize itself. It gathered mostly at her hips and thighs, but her belly definitely had a lot, too. Looking at it all, she found it so odd that he could find her pretty despite all this—no, that he thought her heavier _figure_ was pretty; he wasn’t making an exception for her, he legitimately thought her figure was beautiful the way it was. It was amazing in a way, coming from a place where she was degraded and insulted for it daily. When she thought about it, though, she realized she’d much rather have her curvy figure over anything the Delusians liked. Stick thin with pronounced bones, it looked... much more ghastly, almost, than her softer-looking silhouette. 

_Maybe I’ve liked my body all along!_ Discordia was shocked at the idea,  _maybe I’m just too scared to admit it when everyone thinks otherwise, or I’ve just been convinced into thinking I don’t! __But, then, how much else have I been convinced into believing that isn’t true...?_ She started to legitimately question everything she knew at that moment—but she stopped herself before she got herself worked up. 

She took hold of Aphrodisius’ fine robe and slipped it on. It was extremely comfy; a nice material and very soft, it rested gently on her curves rather than constricting them as the dress had. A happy sigh escaped her lips as she tried to close the garment, but it cut off short as she realized something important. 

Aphrodisius was pretty average in the weight department; there was _no way_ they were the same size, even with the height difference! 

Discordia found that when she tied the robe shut, it only really closed right where she tied it—the rest of the robe remained open. The open chest showed off far more cleavage than even her dress had, but she supposed it still covered enough to do its job well. The lower half of the robe, though, was a different story. It was awfully long and trailed behind her, but that was a lesser problem to the fact that her wide hips prevented the garment from covering a lot of the front of her body below where she tied it. You could almost plainly see the front of both her legs and her underwear was still visible, which made her flush red with embarrassment. 

_ Curses! _ She felt her face heating up as she tried to bring the robe shut, but to no avail.  _Oh well..._ she let her arms hang in defeat after struggling for a few more moments, _ it’s still more comfortable than that dress and I’m sure Aphrodisius wouldn’t mind... _ Discordia tried desperately to justify walking around so exposed. _ I don’t look that tempting, do I? It’s not like these are fancy or anything,_ she looked down at her underwear nervously,  _they’re plain,_ she reassured herself,  _I can’t look tempting if they’re plain!_

_But... maybe looking tempting isn’t a bad thing?_

Discordia mustered her strength and walked back out into the main room, hoping Aphrodisius wouldn’t have any dumb comments to make on her new look when he returned—or maybe she was in denial. Maybe she DID want him to take notice of her revealing attire. She flopped down onto the bed and let herself drop backward, almost surprised at how comfortable the sheets were—definitely imported from the Scorcian Desert, she could tell just by touching the fabric. Something about that lawless place inspired great creativity, she found, as some of the finest silks and fabrics came from there, as well as a variety of other interesting and fancy works.  She felt more comfortable than she’d ever felt in her life, or at least she thought. From the comfy bed to Aphrodisius’ robe, which smelled much like his cologne, she felt as if she were in heaven—except for one thing. Something, a feeling, _gnawing_ at her in her depths, begging to be let out; something she often felt but it was stronger than usual—that sexual problem Aphrodisius had picked up on earlier. Discordia cursed him silently for bringing it up and making her think of it, especially since it was intruding her mind now when she was so peaceful. 

_His innate power seems to be lust-fueled, I wonder if he’d..._ Discordia felt her face heat up at the thought. She wondered if she should feel bad for thinking of him in such a way since he stated he appreciated the feeling of love she gave him. But, the thought was there, and she felt it would be hard to make it leave. The thought of his hands on her exposed form, his lips pressed to her neck, all of the things he’d say to her, the feeling of that deep-rooted issue finally be released by his expertise...

This was about the time that Aphrodisius returned, slipping in the door carefully so as not to spill the pitcher of water he’d brought with him. Having walked in almost backward, he shut the door quietly behind him and then turned to greet Discordia. He opened his mouth to speak, but seeing her sprawled out on the bed in the revealing robe sucked the breath right out of him and almost made him drop his pitcher. All he could do was stand there frozen, taking in the sight of her. She looked so lovely, and happy and content that he almost didn’t want to make his presence known; she looked so perfect in that moment—in the soft robe with her messy blue hair hanging loosely around her head, bathed in the moonlight coming in through the nearby window—he was almost at a loss for words. 

“You look  beautiful ,” Aphrodisius managed to break the silence after collecting himself—and making sure a certain specific part of him wouldn’t be visible to her, for the second time. Discordia sprang up from her place, blushing and surprised at the sound of his voice. 

She drew the blankets up around her, embarrassed. “T-Thank you, Aphrodisius! Your robe is very comfy.” 

“I would sure hope it was, if it wasn’t the tailor would’ve been put to death a long time ago,” Aphrodisius laughed and made his way over to set the pitcher on the nightstand. “I’m joking, darlin’,” he clarified when Discordia’s expression turned to one of shock. Not waiting for her to answer, he took a seat on the bed beside her. “Now, you had some notes to show me?” 

Discordia nodded and reached for her bag, but stopped abruptly and just about sprang on him. “Wait, let me see this first!” She tugged gently on his cape. “You promised I could look it over!” 

“My, my, I didn’t realize you were this eager to get me out of my clothes,” Aphrodisius smirked; of course he’d find some way to make some flirty comment out of that. 

Discordia’s eyes widened in mock shock. “Me? Trying to get _you_ out of _your_ clothes? It seems you’re more eager to get _me_ out of _mine_ ,” she glanced down at his lap briefly to make it more clear to him that his brief efforts to hide his untimely erection hadn’t done him any good. Her gaze then returned to his—much more embarrassed—with lidded eyes. 

“Well,” Aphrodisius started defensively, “you could say I didn’t expect to walk in on _you_ laying on _my_ bed with _your_ legs spread! Not to mention, with my robe _barely_ on you! Can you blame me?” 

“Hey, it doesn’t fit me well!” Discordia protested, “and I was just relaxing! I spent all night with my legs practically clamped in one place!”

“Oh, I suppose you have a point,” Aphrodisius nodded, slipping out of his cape and handing it over as he admitted defeat, “we definitely aren’t the same body type. But, you can't blame me, still.” 

“Exactly! And I'll blame you _all_ I want!” Discordia exclaimed triumphantly as she hugged the cape close. She fell onto her back with it and held it above her, trying to examine the stitching and the fabric—yes, it was definitely her mother’s work, and she did sense some form of magic in its thread. She dropped the robe back on top of her and hugged it as if it were a person, then stuck her head up to ask, “what enchantment did you get on this?” 

Aphrodisius did his best to distract himself from his discomfort to answer, “the shoulder part can disconnect from the actual cape if I want it to; I have multiple different styles of capes that I can swap through if I please.” He looked longingly at her as he removed his signature hat and set it beside the pitcher, cuddling with his robe and wished he was in its place instead. Internally, he admonished himself for being jealous of some fancy fabric.

_Oh, Aphrodisius, you know if you were in that cape’s place, you would be doing a little more than cuddling her... control yourself._

“That’s definitely an enchantment fit for someone like you,” Discordia giggled, bringing her legs up bent. She could feel his gaze on her form and could tell he had a fire burning for her in his depths, or perhaps she had made a fire that was always burning worse. Either way, she found herself excited at the idea that she could evoke such strong emotions in him—the thought of pushing him further only excited her more, even if she was a bit shy. Pushing through it was worth it if she could make him squirm the way he’d been making her the whole night. Maybe he’d be bothered enough to help her without her needing to ask—it would be so embarrassing to admit out loud, even if she knew it was part of his godly duties in a way to help. Oh, but even so, she’d snapped at him when he brought it up originally when she should’ve just opened up about it instead. 

Aphrodisius practically threw himself down to lay beside her, preventing his eyes known for wandering from doing so. “Yes, I think so, too,” he grinned at her. He was trying his best to control himself, but that didn’t make it easy—earlier in the night when this happened, the fear of Discordia getting in trouble had overcame the thrill of danger which normally would’ve made it worse. Aphrodisius didn’t have anything to replace the mostly sinful thoughts he was having now and he _was_ _ suffering _ . 

“Discordia, you wouldn’t mind if I took my shirt off, would you?” The king hoped his intentions wouldn’t be misconstrued, but he felt like he was boiling alive.

“This is your room, you can do whatever you like...” Discordia turned on her side to face him, the cape draped over her like a blanket. “I wouldn’t want you to suffer,” she traced down his chest from his collarbone with a finger, a devious glint in her eyes.

“Are you sure? It feels like you do,” Aphrodisius grabbed her hand and gently set it away from him before sitting upright to pull his gloves off, followed by his shirt, and then his choker—he kept his goggles on, oddly enough. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Discordia was actually trying to tempt him, or if he was just lusting too hard.

“Oh, _Doll,_ I would never,” Discordia giggled as she pulled her bag over her side to rest it between them. She paused for a moment before starting again, “why’d you keep your goggles on?” 

Aphrodisius seemed to be taken by surprise by the question. “I just like them,” he spoke with a defensive air to his voice. “I’ll take them off right before I go to sleep; we still have your work to look over, you know.”

Discordia pulled the folder of her notes out of her bag and handed it to him so she could move her bag to the floor. “Yes, we do,” she nodded, but then shot her eyes upward to let her gaze pierce him as she continued, “and you don’t have to be ashamed of having bad eyesight.” 

Aphrodisius bristled in shock at how quickly she’d pieced together the truth just from that one comment. “I don’t!” He protested, “these are for safety! And the look!” 

“Safety from walking into a wall, I know.” Discordia laughed. “If those aren’t real lenses, then take those off for a second and tell me how many fingers I’m holding up.” 

Aphrodisius stared at her for a long moment before sighing in defeat. “Fine, I admit it; my eyes are less than godly. They weren’t always, though. Being exposed to extremely bright lights would be the cause, I think.” He opened up the folder to start inspecting its contents once more. “The younger Aphrodisius was not as keen on wearing his safety gear.” 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, the younger Discordia refused to wear thimbles when she sewed. She might have the most pain-tolerant fingers in the world, now.” 

“Oh, does she?” Aphrodisius chuckled before sighing happily and beginning to scan over the first of Discordia’s many notes. “Ah... you may need to clarify a few things for me before we begin looking these over.” 

Discordia moved to sit upright. “Like what?” 

“Your magic; how does it work in terms of these enchantments? Would it be the same as any other user of magic, or is there a difference?” Aphrodisius asked, “I only ask because it looks like there is some degree of a difference.” 

“It’s a combination of physical components and raw magic,” Discordia explained, “due to our magic being purer than any of the other types, we have the ability to unlock the natural magical capabilities in certain plants or other natural materials.”

“Interesting; so, your enchantment spells are similar to how wizards use their magic?” Aphrodisius queried. 

“Yes,” Discordia nodded. “Since you brought that up, I think it’s important to elaborate on that point. As—I believe—you know, when the Colony of Prudence was founded hundreds of years ago, the first Father Justice—a God-fearing cleric—gave up his magic to place a curse on the land, preventing “evil” magic users from being born on the grounds. This consisted of all the common magic users, so clerics, sorcerers, wizards, warlocks, and the like; though, since warlocks are not born, they were prevented from existing by lack of knowledge and promoting fear of “evil, false gods”. 

“I am aware of this, yes.” Aphrodisius interrupted. “This is one of the few parts of Prudence’s history that is well-known—that, and the first Father Justice’s hatred of love, which I can’t wrap my head around. I can’t imagine how a man could grow up surrounded by people loving as they choose, only to randomly decide he wants a world where only heterosexual unions exist; it makes no sense. And to found a whole new place on such a backward belief system!” 

“His “God” spoke to him, it is said,” Discordia answered. “I don’t doubt he was lying to further some personal agenda, though, since I don’t recall Magdalena ever saying anything like that was in their bible—and her family was one of the most devout in the town.” 

Aphrodisius’ eyes widened in surprise. “I’d hope she wouldn’t hold those same views, considering she’s married to... wait, isn’t that your _sister?_ The circus performer?” 

“Eutropia!” Discordia’s eyes widened in shock. “Yes! She is! But... our families hated each other, how did they end up...?” 

“I should’ve guessed you didn’t have contact. I’m surprised you didn’t see either of them at the wedding party, they were both there.” Aphrodisius commented, interested in whatever family drama was going on between Discordia and her sister. “I mean, Magdalena’s pregnant already. Kind of hard to miss.” 

Discordia could do nothing but sit there, slack-jawed in shock. Had it really been that long since she’d seen her little sister? She grimaced—either way, Eutropia probably had no interest in Discordia for how poorly she treated her growing up. 

_I only ever helped her once. And even then, it was because she was in immediate danger..._

“Ah... Discordia, darlin’?” Aphrodisius coughed awkwardly. “Sorry for changing the subject... you want to finish your story now?” He set the notes down in his lap and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against him in hopes to keep her more focused on the task at hand. 

Discordia blinked, confused for a moment. “Oh, right. As I was saying; since the more common and well-known types of magic were prevented from existing, the people of Prudence could only physically defend themselves. That wasn’t a problem for most, but the women there were seen as lesser and often would be killed and called “witches” for fighting back against the male-preferring laws and abuses they faced at the hands of men. The women of Prudence suffered, feeling unable to do anything against the constraints of their society, but they prayed for an escape; they were warned of false gods in church, so they began to believe in one that would love them more than the “God” they were forced to worship.

“From this, the two Goddesses of Witchcraft were born into existence; Hadrienne, Goddess of the Sun, and Andred, Goddess of the Moon. The fiery goddess Hadrienne gifted the power of flame to her followers, while the cold—andrather rude—Goddess Andred gifted her followers the power of ice.” Discordia let a small bit of her ice-cold magic drop from her fingertips for emphasis. “The goddess’ gifts of magic were meant to replace the common types of magic—the standard ice and fire was to replace wizards, sorcerers, and warlocks; the flower witches, a unique breed only being born during times of drought or ecological disaster, were to replace druids and clerics; there are legends of a special breed of witch that can turn into a cat on command, but I’ve never seen any evidence for this.” 

“That’s very interesting!” Aphrodisius seemed genuinely fascinated with the strange magic’s history. “Is that all, though? Nothing to make up for the lack of paladins, rangers, rogues, or monks?” 

“Monks exist in Prudence, I don’t think their powerful connection to their own souls counts—my sister is a monk. She broke the cycle,” Discordia furrowed her brow as if the thought confused her. “As for the others, rangers and rogues technically exist—they just don’t have magic. They have physical gifts, usually, to make up the difference. Paladins, however, have a very interesting replacement—“

“Hold on a second,” Aphrodisius interrupted. “What do you mean when you say your sister ‘broke the cycle’?” 

“When the goddesses blessed Prudence with magic, they gave it to only seven women,” Discordia explained. “These were the first witches; all of them had odd hair colors to pass down, also. These witches would spread their craft through their family line—every baby girl they had would be born a witch and would always have the same odd hair color. My sister was the first and only ever daughter of a witch recorded to have been born without magic.” Discordia finished. She then lowered her voice to add, “mother saw her as a mistake because of it. A curse on the family and an ill omen. That’s why she agreed to let my father raise her by himself.” 

“Oh,” Aphrodisius was perplexed by this. “I see. Is that also why her hair is so oddly colored? I always thought it was dyed.”

“I’d guess so. The blue would suggest she has magic somewhere in her, inaccessible or too little to be worth anything, but she was always so proud of her own physical ability, I don’t think she’d want magic even if she did have it,” Discordia explained. 

That was probably true. Aphrodisius nodded in agreement. “She and her bunch of interesting characters performed for me once when I was freshly made king,” he explained, “she is very impressive; I’ve never seen a woman who could twist and bend her form with such ease and without injury. Ringmistress Eutropia certainly needs no magic.”

Discordia looked a bit sad. “I know. I feel bad that mother and I were so hard on her for her lack thereof. I used to think she was weird, that it was gross-looking to bend her body around so extremely... but I understand now that it is her art.” Discordia seemed to tense up a bit as she continued, “and how much of father’s torture she went through to perfect her skill.” 

Aphrodisius could sense something amiss in the air when Discordia mentioned her father, the—former—most famous ringmaster. Considering what she’d mentioned about her sister and “defiled innocence” before, he decided he’d better not ask. Changing the subject back to the more important topic, he asked, “...I cut you off before, what was it with paladins you were saying?”

“Oh, yes! The witch replacement is quite an interesting thing,” Discordia started, “they are called exorcists and what sets them apart is, they are not blessed by either of the witch goddesses, but rather Prudence’s Christian God.”

“How does that work? You’d think the separate pantheon would prevent such a thing,” Aphrodisius piped up, curious.

“No one really knows, but they are very special in their ability to cast out demons and destroy monsters; they live to serve their God,” Discordia explained. “Maybe he wanted to counter the “sinful” magic of the town by blessing one of his own; exorcists keep the hair color of their family line, despite this different type of magic, though.” She paused as if trying to remember something. “Oh! And there can only be one of them living at a time. Also, most common witches do not trust them; they are the ONLY type of witch that is ALLOWED to use her magic in Prudence, because it is seen as holy and a result of their holy blessing, they work directly with the Justice and their Jury.”

“And they tend to throw other witches under the bus, I presume?” 

“That’s what most us tended to be afraid of, but I’d never seen it happen—oh, no, that’s a lie; Magdalena’s mother, Harriette, was outed by the exorcist,” Discordia corrected, “though, she obviously escaped trial with the help of her lover.” She paused, letting an image of the pair cross her mind. Then, she suddenly added, “actually, I reckon it’s not her magic that made the exorcist single her out, I think it was her erratic behavior; she may have believed that with her acting like that, she couldn’t rationalize an excuse to disprove the rumors of her being a witch.” 

“I suppose that’s a positive way to look at it. To think of it as a situation where there was nothing she could do, rather than outing her on purpose,” Aphrodisius pursed his lips in thought. “So, they really would just kill people for acting weird, huh?”

Discordia nodded solemnly. “It was seen as a sign of “demonic possession” or something like that. If the exorcist couldn’t “exorcise” you, you’d be killed for being a witch, even if you weren’t one. I’ve seen it happen,” she explained. “Harriette was a witch, but she posed no threat to anyone but herself, I think. She saw and heard things that weren’t really there and lived in fear every day of her life, afraid of horrible things being around every corner,” Discordia continued, seeming sad. “I made fun of her and her family, because I didn’t understand what living was like for her and mother always likened her to a dangerous animal. But, I... after the incident, I sometimes... see things, too, when I’m very worked up.” She gulped hard, as if she was nervous to admit to this. “They can be scary sometimes; I can’t imagine what that poor woman felt having to deal with it all the time with no breaks... she was dealt an awful hand by the people of Prudence, who had mocked and shunned her before condemning her to die.” Discordia shook her head.

“That... explains a lot about the eccentric Mother Justice, actually...” Aphrodisius seemed mystified by all this information. “I wonder if Magdalena has a similar problem and that’s why she’s so...” The king searched for the right word. “...she’s just a very unique character, that one.”

Discordia pursed her lips. “I’ve heard that she’s a bit strange now. When she was younger, I remember her just being very quiet and lonely. Maybe she does have a similar problem,” she mused, “or the bullying changed her.” She looked like she felt bad, even though she knew EVERYONE had bullied Magdalena for her relation to her mother and strong defense of. 

_Magdalena did nothing wrong. None of her family did... except her father, I suppose, but only because he was the sheriff and that was part of his job. Maybe he changed his tune on witches after meeting Harriette._

After a long silence, Aphrodisius spoke up, “oh, Discordia! You and I are too good at getting off-topic! We should be discussing your notes, now that I know your history and how everything should work!” He tried to sound joyous, to lighten the mood. 

Discordia looked up at him curiously, leaning her head on his shoulder for extra effect. “You know, Aph, I really question if you actually want to look at my notes or not. Based on what you said before, it seems like you only wanted to see them because you had no idea how else to drag on our night.” She presented the statement as a challenge, crossing her arms.

Aphrodisius let out an overdramatic gasp. “Of course I do!” He seemed indignant at the suggestion. “...But that may have been a portion of the reason I was so excited about it.” He admitted.

Discordia snatched the notes from his hands. “Well... as much as I want to look over them with you, I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier and it’s... been bothering me a bit.” To be honest, Discordia didn't want to look at the notes all too much anymore--she was too distracted and surely wouldn't be able to properly explain the contents of her work to Aphrodisius.

Aphrodisius looked alarmed. “I said a lot of things earlier! Which one?” He seemed desperate as if he was afraid of upsetting her.

“Well... you know...” Discordia seemed nervous to speak. _“My_ _ problem...”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kinda lame, I know. I didn’t want to include the “fun activity” they were supposed to do in this chapter, in this chapter because there was too much lore and it’s already super long, which is why it ends abruptly. 
> 
> The next chapter, that means, will be getting like,,, right into that, though. However that can be skipped, since I’ll post the last chapter at the same time. 
> 
> Also if you’re curious about the sexual issue and you don’t wanna read the next chapter to figure it out, Discordia is too emotionally labored to orgasm/feel pleasure and it’s extremely distressing to her, *the more you know* 👁👁


	6. ...And Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aphrodisius may be renowned for being tempting, but Discordia can be just as much...  
> (This chapter can be skipped!)

“You mentioned my, um... sexual problem?” Discordia blushed, unable to look at him as she clarified what she meant. “You wanted to know what it was.” She paused, squirming nervously. “Would... would you be able to help me with it if I told you?” The witch turned back to him with pleading eyes, “I could try to do something for you, too...” She trailed off, resting a hand on his leg. His own “problem” had vanished a while ago, but she assumed if she could tempt him before, she could tempt him now—and she wanted to. Discordia was almost embarrassed at how hard of a time she was having with her impure thoughts as of late; something about Aphrodisius brought out a very, very repressed part of her. Though, she supposed that was the normal response to being around him.

Aphrodisius felt like he was in shock over how brazen Discordia was suddenly being about this, even if she seemed nervous. “Discordia, darlin’,” he reached over and rested a hand over hers, “I am a god of uncontrollable lust. You mustn’t tempt me like this.” Considering he had been trying to control his thoughts all night, this almost felt like a threat. He had been thinking that maybe he wouldn't have to deal with a challenge to his resolve, but it would appear he was wrong.

“I’m serious!” Discordia’s eyes widened, as if trying to show him her sincerity through them. “I trust you. You’ve made me feel so special and loved tonight, I think it would be okay.” She smiled at him, though there was still nervousness in her smile. "And, this is sort of what you do, isn't it? Or, what you're _supposed_ to do, at least?"

“I can help you figure out your problem on your own, but I promised myself I’d not lay a finger on your flesh,” Aphrodisius sighed. “I don’t want you to think I’m simply lusting for your touch and I suspect this is a test.” It was a test for him alright. A test to see if he could stand keeping it in his pants for once in his life... which he found he was never all that good at.

“I promise this isn’t a test,” Discordia turned her hand up to hold his. “I want to know what it’s like... to... you know. Actually, um... finish.” It was an embarrassing problem. She’d tried many times, but every attempt resulted in the same thing—the sensations grew annoying, the pressure in her stomach made her feel sick, nothing happened, and she gave up. Being in a place like Delusia with this issue was also a large source of shame; she could never experience the things her fellow followers of Delu'seer described because it just... didn't work. Almost as if a part of her was broken or damaged, preventing her from ever experiencing any form of pleasure.

“You can’t orgasm?” Aphrodisius rose an eyebrow at her. “I suspected that was your problem, but sleeping with me won’t necessarily fix that—that is something deeply rooted in yourself, I assume emotionally in your case.” He was silent for a moment, but then clarified, “I mean, I can give you one—I could give you one without even _touching_ you actually, but that defeats the purpose of the act and makes it feel meaningless—but if it’s only induced by my innate magic and skill, that won’t make it come naturally. Or, _you,_ I suppose.” It was probably in his nature to make a cheesy comment every hundred or so words he spoke.

“Well, if you won’t touch me, can you at least tell me what I’m doing wrong?” Discordia seemed disheartened; it made him feel a bit bad. To be the god of lust, denying a poor, needy woman the pleasure she’d lacked for so long. He just had to remind himself, if he waited, it’d be better. If he contained himself, it would also make him and their potential marriage _look_ better. It already looked odd to his courtiers that he was so adamant about pursuing such a low-ranking, emotionally compromised woman, Aphrodisius could only _imagine_ what his people would think if she was also, say, _pregnant_ already when he returned with her. Aphrodisius knew his intentions with Discordia were pure, but it was likely outsiders looking in would be skeptical. 

“I’d have to know what you’re doing to do that,” Aphrodisius answered, feeling betrayed by a certain body part once more. He couldn’t help but feel excited at the prospect of what was about to happen, despite feeling ashamed of himself for allowing the feeling. He wanted her so badly, but he couldn’t give in. ...Could he? _Maybe... if I don’t penetrate her it will be fine!_ Aphrodisius tried to rationalize.  _She wants me, I want her, but if I limit myself it will be okay... no! Aphrodisius, you can’t! She’s special! She must be resting on the finest silks of your bed, at home where she belongs, warmed up properly and surrounded by rose petals! You can’t sleep with her immediately, especially not at a hotel! That’s unbecoming!_ He didn't want to admit it, but deep down, he knew this was probably a losing battle. 

“O-Oh,” Discordia flushed despite not getting the answer she wanted, but excitement still pulsed through her veins. She had to convince him it was alright for him to touch her—she craved his loving caresses, the feeling of his hands trailing down her flesh, his lips on her skin... it wasn’t a craving, no, it was a  _need_ _._ She _needed_ to pull him in, but that would require bravery on her part. It wasn't like she really knew how to seduce a man--or anyone, for that matter--to begin with.

“Just describe to me what you normally do; how do you prepare, where do you touch, your technique... it all plays a part.” Aphrodisius tried to smile encouragingly, but he was still nervous about his self-control and now considerably more aggravated at the fact that his pants were still on—he couldn’t show that, though. _Just help her, you don't have to touch her, this is fine!_

Discordia played with the rope of the robe, loosening it a bit. “Well,” she seemed embarrassed to be sharing the details, “I just use my fingers, like this.” She rose a hand and showed him the standard for all female masturbation. "I don't really do anything... um, "special", I guess..."

“You don’t rub yourself?” Aphrodisius seemed surprised. “That could be your whole problem.” He found his hand drifting to her leg, where it rested comfortably on her thigh. “I would’ve thought a Delusian would be more than well aware of how important clitoral stimulation is... you know, given sex seems to be only second to suicide in importance over there.”

“I-I know what it is!” Discordia stammered, embarrassed. “It just... it feels nice, I guess, but also like nothing. I’ll lay there for a long time and it feels like nothing happens! Even when I do both actions at the same time.” Discordia crossed her arms in frustration. “It’s annoying. I feel jealous of the other Delusians, sometimes. They’re always touching each other and having wonderful experiences with one another while I... sit here with nothing. Or, rather, nothing but a tense, uncomfortable feeling between my hips that I have to carry around for the rest of the day.”

Aphrodisius would’ve been lying if he said his head wasn’t suddenly filled with thoughts of Discordia angrily thrusting her fingers in and out of herself.  _Very needy,_ he thought,  _maybe she does need a bit of my expertise..._ He imagined it, something he’d been trying to avoid—the sounds she’d make, how soft she’d feel, how perfect their union would be, how different it might feel for himself with the feeling of love involved...

He couldn’t resist. He was a failure in all aspects of the sin of lust. He _needed_ her. Surely just a taste wouldn’t hurt...

“Discordia,” Aphrodisius spoke gently, “may I see you?” He ran a finger down the edge of her robe, letting the tip of it just barely trace down her skin. “Perhaps you do require my expertise...”

“I thought you didn’t want to touch me,” Discordia rose an eyebrow, teasing him lightly. 

“It feels wrong to,” Aphrodisius admitted, “but it would also be wrong of me to let you suffer with an issue like that; my expertise may be a requirement in your case, whether I’d like it to be or not.”

Discordia seemed triumphant. “S-See, I told you I needed it!” Her face seemed to turn a bit more red as she continued, “but, I’ve never shown my body to anyone before,” her tone was suddenly much more timid, “you really want to see it? I sort of thought you’d just go... underneath everything.” 

“I’d like to be familiar with you before I try to assist you,” Aphrodisius moved to wrap his arms around her from behind, pulling her against his chest so he could speak softly against her ear. He kissed her cheek, then lowered to the side of her neck, before traveling to her shoulder after letting the robe droop slightly. “Though, I’m surprised to hear that, with you being a Delusian and all... I thought all of them had to share a bed with Delu’seer at least once.” 

A flutter of warmth coursed through Discordia as she leaned against his body. “We do... she didn’t want to touch me, so I kept my clothes on. But I did have my tongue on her... she said I was sloppy...” As she spoke, she shakily undid the robe and allowed it to fall to her hips, exposing her breasts to the air. She felt so vulnerable, with his eyes on her form, but something about the feeling, of feeling powerless and exposed, made her heart race even faster than before. She was defenseless to his touch; maybe it was odd of her to _want_ to be.

“You’re beautiful,” Aphrodisius’ low, rumbling voice directly in her ear made her crave him further, if it was even possible. The king traced his hands down her sides, pushing the robe off her hips and urging her to raise them slightly so he could discard the item. With the robe out of the way, their skin made contact; it was then that Discordia became aware of just how warm Aphrodisius was, feeling the dampness of sweat on his skin when she leaned backward to push up against him harder. Maybe a part of her felt guilty for tempting him when he clearly had been trying hard not to give in to her, but something made her feel that he might've enjoyed the challenge, even if he ultimately failed.

Aphrodisius’ hands continued to move over her skin, as if to inspect every inch. He kept one on one of her breasts, gently squeezing the soft flesh. He was delighted to hear a soft sound escape Discordia’s lips. He leaned in close to her ear again to ask, “have you ever tried touching up here?” 

“Ah...” Discordia sighed, as he continued to feel around her heavy chest; it wasn’t necessarily a sexual pleasure she was getting out of the act rather than just the pleasure of not having the weight of her bust pulling on her when his hands were supporting their weight. “I have... it doesn’t do too much for me,” she admitted, “but it feels nice when you touch them.” Her face felt hot, but she tried to relax into his touch.

Aphrodisius ran a thumb over one of her nipples, hoping to elicit a reaction, but was puzzled to get nothing. They were inverted, but he’d gotten reactions from women with inverted nipples before--usually, if he teased them enough, or squeezed them, they’d come out and he’d be able to go about his normal routine. Discordia was a little different, it seemed, in that the degree of her inversion was too much even for him to coax out.

“I see... there’s no way you can get these to... “pop out” per se?” He queried, continuing to tease the slits in the puffy flesh. 

“No,” Discordia shook her head, “but it feels sort of funny when you rub over them like that,” she giggled. 

Aphrodisius was determined. There had to be _some_ way, right? He moved to sit up straight once more, to Discordia’s puzzlement. “Lay down for me, darlin’.” He ordered, to which Discordia quickly complied. Pleased, the king rested himself on top of her, briefly halting his quest to kiss her. This kiss was much deeper than any prior one, full of passion and want. Discordia’s arms found their way around his neck and she found herself almost gripping the back of his head in an attempt to keep him there. Aphrodisius pressed his tongue to her teeth, hoping for access Discordia was happy to grant. Her kissing inexperience was probably very apparent as she slid her tongue against her partner’s, enjoying the feeling but unsure if she was doing everything right. Her head felt a bit foggy, like all the blood had drained from it; and it probably had, in favor of her lower half which she felt a throbbing in with such an intensity she’d never felt before. She felt Aphrodisius’ hips grinding against her the second he had access to and she found that it eased the somewhat painful feeling the throbbing brought with it. Her legs wrapped around his waist, hoping to encourage the motion to continue, though Aphrodisius, on the other hand, thought he might _die_ if he stopped. 

The pair let their lips break free from each other, breathless. They gazed at each other briefly, a mess of emotions between them, before Aphrodisius wasted no time moving to her neck. Discordia was surprised at how much she enjoyed the simple gesture of having attention on her neck; the way he planted kisses over her skin only to suck on it seconds later, or to gently take the tender flesh between his teeth. She liked that most—the tinge of pain that came with each little nibble or bite. 

Discordia tilted her head back slightly as Aphrodisius met her collar bone, practicing the same moves he’d performed on her neck. All the while, his hands stroked and caressed her form, cherishing every inch of her body as if she owned the most precious and rare figure in the world—and to him, she did. The king found his way to her breasts again and unleashed a new plan of attack: his tongue. He ran his tongue up the valley between the two mounds first, making Discordia cry out in surprise at the feeling of moisture against the heat of her body. From there, he moved to her right breast to tease the inversion with it, running over it and pressing against the slit with the very tip. However, to his dismay, Discordia only laughed. 

“That tickles!” The witch remarked, pushing on Aphrodisius’ face to make him stop. 

“That’s unfortunate,” Aphrodisius rested the side of his head between her breasts to gaze up at her, “most woman enjoy that.” He was almost embarrassed that, despite his skill, he still couldn't manage to show her this form of pleasure; he'd have to think up more ideas later.

“I can’t miss what I’ve never felt,” Discordia shrugged. “But, thank you for trying,” she paused to run a hand through his strawberry blonde locks, “you’re very sweet.” 

“I’m glad you approve,” Aphrodisius cooed, “I’m not used to being so gentle,” he confessed. “I tend to like things a bit more rough,” he drug his nails up Discordia’s side gently, making her twitch. “Normally, I avoid virgins... so, please make sure I don’t get too excited with you. I’d hate to hurt you on accident, that’s the last thing I want; I’m a bit out of my element.” 

“I think you’re doing wonderful,” Discordia soothed. “And, I’d like to continue, if you don’t mind,” she blushed red as she prodded him gently, causing Aphrodisius to laugh. 

“As you wish, darlin’” The king pressed his face against her skin once more, planting kisses down her body until he reached the hem of her underwear. His breath over her most private area was almost enough to drive her crazy as he just hung inches away from it, only blocked by cloth. He grinned and chuckled softly at the look of desperation on his lover’s face and skipped over it, choosing to plant kisses and nibbles on her inner thighs instead. 

Discordia groaned and squirmed in annoyance, having hoped he’d fix her problem right then and there. Shyly, she reached her own hand down between her legs and slipped it under her underwear, easing the strain a bit as she came into contact with her swollen clit. Aphrodisius, however, was alerted by her happy moan and reached to grab her wrist and pull the offending hand free of its charge.

_“That’s_ _ mine _ _,”_ his voice was like a growl, taking Discordia by surprise, but it was a sound she found extremely alluring. _Alluring._ He lived up to his godly title quite well...

“T-Then touch me,” she gripped the sheets gently with her free hand, sounding breathy with need. Aphrodisius ached for what he saw and would be a fool to deny her when she looked so desperate for him. “Please,” she pleaded, which sounded like music to his ears. He'd loved to have made her beg more, but he supposed he'd better take it easy on her.

The king pressed his lips to her tenderness through her underwear before licking her through the fabric, making her gasp. As he continued the motion, she let out a groan of annoyance, begging him to pull the article off and make his contact more direct. He let her wait out a few more painfully long licks before hooking her underwear with a finger and jerking them down, allowing her to move her legs underneath him to kick them off, since he couldn’t get them over her feet without tearing himself away from the enticing sight before him--something he was very unwilling to do. 

Discordia felt hot as she looked down at Aphrodisius, who was eyeing her heat like it was a whole five-course meal. She watched as he pushed her legs apart with his hands and pressed his face into the tangles of blue curls between. His breath directly on her core felt almost painful in the way it teased her. Her mind screamed for him to continue, to bring her the ecstasy she’d lacked for so long... 

And _he_ _ did _ _._ Aphrodisius flicked his tongue over her sensitive bud, sending a shockwave of pleasure coursing through her. Discordia cried out and raised her legs up slightly, only to have Aphrodisius slam them down a bit roughly. She gripped onto the sheets as he continued the slow, gentle licks, occasionally going over the entirety of her heat to warm her up for what was to come. He slid his tongue down a bit to her entrance, swirling around it while bringing a hand over to rub her clit in the mean time. Discordia found it to be an interesting sensation, but not a bad one. She didn’t fully realize why he was doing it until she felt his mouth separate from her flesh to inform her. 

“I know you’ve fingered yourself before, but I want you to pay attention to what I do; especially what I do _differently,”_ Aphrodisius spoke gently, “keep your focus on what you’re feeling—let it overcome you and don’t think of anything else. You must be _focused_ on pleasure to achieve it.” Discordia nodded as he finished and shut her eyes, letting out a long sigh to try and relax her body. 

With Discordia relaxed and ready, Aphrodisius could move to his real task: to help her orgasm.  _I wonder if she wouldn’t mind helping me out... oh, there you go again! Aphrodisius, control yourself!_ He glanced down at the bulge in his uncomfortably tight pants, but didn’t dare make a move toward it. This was Discordia’s turn, not his. Taking a glance up at her to see her waiting in anticipation, he moved his hand to rub her, making her squirm. He then slowly moved his hand down to press a finger gently against her entrance; Discordia moved her hips against his touch and the finger slipped inside with ease. 

“Mmmm... _Aphrodisius,”_ the witch found herself reaching down to her clit once more as she spoke, “go slow at... it’s... sore at first, but I think I like that most...”

“Of course,” Aphrodisius replied, “I may have been in a rush all night, but I’ll certainly take my time with you here.” He took a mental note of her apparent enjoyment of a little light pain. As he finished speaking, he started moving the finger in and out slowly, testing how used to the feeling she was before adding another digit. He felt a bit more resistance, but not much. Her happy sighs encouraged him to continue, not hinting at any pain in the motion—unenjoyable pain, at least. He figured she was just fingering herself with her fingers straight based on how she’d shown him earlier, not curled or in any odd manner; so he chose to curl his fingers upward, pressing into her upper wall, and dragging against the sensitive flesh as he eased his fingers in and out of her. 

Discordia cried out, surprised at how different it felt just due to the fact that he curled his fingers while she never had in any of her explorations. His fingers were larger than hers, too, and she supposed that might have something to do with it as well. Whatever he was doing, it was certainly working—she squirmed and arched her back whenever he hit a particularly soft spot in her, though she couldn’t help but wish he’d get better contact with it, almost like it was too deep in her for him to reach properly. A familiar fire was brewing in her waist, making her feel weak and powerless to his touch; it felt like he’d quickened his pace, too. 

_Focus on the feeling,_ _Discordia,_ she managed to remind herself through the messy haze in her mind. _Don’t be afraid of making a mess, don’t be afraid of being too loud, don’t be afraid of..._ she suddenly felt that annoying feeling clawing up her stomach, like the feeling of being too full.  _Oh, come on! Just relax and let it go!_ She screamed at herself internally, now afraid of disappointing Aphrodisius on top of her issue.

“Aphrodisius,” she whimpered, “m-more, I’m so close...!” Aphrodisius was almost sympathetic at how desperate her voice sounded; almost as if she’d _cry._ Clearly, she was having trouble focusing, so he’d just have to kick everything up a notch. 

“Tell me if this is too intense,” he cautioned, “just tell me to stop and I will right away, okay?”

“O-Okay,” Discordia’s voice sounded shaky and her walls clamped desperately around his still fingers, begging for him to continue. 

Aphrodisius carefully added a third finger to the mix, pushing it in slowly so as not to strain her too much. She was so wet, though, it almost took no effort at all and she sounded like she greatly approved of the action. He pushed his digits in and out of her at an accelerated pace, taking a moment to fantasize about how it might feel to have himself inside of her instead—but he purged the thought and reminded himself that his finishing move would require all his focus. Still working her with his fingers, he latched his lips around her clit once more and sucked on the small bundle of nerves, shutting his eyes to take in Discordia’s—extremely loud—sounds of pleasure. It didn’t take much longer before he heard her gasp and suddenly suck in a ton of air, hard, before screaming to signify her climax. 

It was like nothing Discordia had ever experienced before. All of the stress and hopelessness she’d felt from the building fire in her waist was suddenly gone, replaced by blissful weightlessness. Her limbs first felt stiff and strained, especially her legs which shook violently, but then suddenly felt weak, but warm and tingly _and_ _wonderful._ She could only lay there and catch her breath, giggling and twitching occasionally as she felt Aphrodisius’ tongue clean up some of the excess juices leaking from her core. 

“Aphrodisius...” Discordia rose her head weakly, “that was—oh!” She clapped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment when he lifted his head enough for her to catch sight of him... and his fluid covered goggles. He must’ve backed off to watch her squirm and ended up in the “splash zone”. _Of course,_ he'd be the type to stand back and watch his achievement. 

“They’re waterproof for a reason,” Aphrodisius grinned deviously. “I can see why it troubled you so much, that was a lot of pent up lust... I think I was blind for a moment there—from my ability to sense lust being overloaded, I mean, not because you covered my goggles,” He ran a hand up her thigh lightly before sitting up on his knees. “Speaking of which, you’ve certainly transferred a copious amount of that lust to _me_ in more ways than one...” 

Discordia watched with hungry eyes as the king pulled off his goggles, did away with his belt, and jerked down his pants, easing up the strain on his aching member. Aphrodisius awkwardly maneuvered them off, but kept his boxers on—he had no intent on actually asking Discordia to please him, it wouldn’t be right. He reached his arms over his head to stretch, holding it for a few moments before flopping onto the bed beside Discordia.

Discordia, who was suddenly craving release once more, felt feverish at the sight of the most perfect man so hot and heavy _over_ _ her _ _._ She felt that he must have been born specifically to hold every trait she found attractive, from his voice, to his older age—even if not by much—to that somehow disheveled but also well-dressed appearance.  After seeing him shirtless, though, Discordia had come to the puzzling conclusion that body hair held extreme significance to her as well. The only man she’d ever seen shirtless prior to Aphrodisius was her former husband, who had none—so, seeing Aphrodisius, who had a ton, seemed to have unlocked some hidden deep attraction to it in her. She made a mental note to question him about that later, figuring it wasn’t normal to be getting soaked over... any and all hair. 

“Aphrodisius...” She rolled onto her side and rested a hand gently on his lower waist, an unexpected action that made him jolt. “I want to help you, too...” Discordia allowed her hand to drift until she reached the hem of his boxers, where he prevented her from traveling further. 

“Discordia, it is not your duty to please me,” Aphrodisius addressed her sternly, but failed to see this would likely only make her more likely to disobey him. “I have already failed my promise to keep my hands to myself; I won’t have _you_ touching _me.”_

“I want to repay you!” Discordia seemed disappointed. “I’ve never felt that wonderful in my life, you must let me return the favor! I don’t care if it’s “improper” to sleep with me before we’re properly courted, we haven’t been doing this courting business correctly the whole time!” 

She did have a point. In theory, just sharing a bed with her would be frowned upon just as much at this stage in the courting process, even if they were speeding through it. Still, Aphrodisius detested the idea of taking her in a foreign hotel over his grand palace. He was surprised at how determined she was to escalate the situation as well, considering she wasn’t even under any affects of his alluring aura—he reasoned that he had underestimated just how much of a drive the shy woman had been hiding from him. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so desperate to get in my pants before, Discordia, and that’s saying a lot,” Aphrodisius rose his eyebrows at her and shook his head slowly. “Where is this determination coming from?” Suddenly, he was on her, one hand raising up her back and the other pulling her hips closer to his, though he never got to fully kneeling; he remained holding her, sort of half-bent backwards over the sheets. “I thought you were _shy,”_ he continued, “this is a deviousness I did not expect to see in you...” He pressed a finger between her shoulder blades and slowly traced down her spine, easing her front half back onto the bed and pulling her lower half ever closer to press her hips completely to his. 

Discordia hummed happily as he tempted her, but felt her heart jump into her throat when his hips made contact with hers; he hadn’t taken his boxers off, so the contact wasn’t direct, but she was startled at the feeling nonetheless. She had heard rumors of the king of lust being particularly well-endowed, but she didn’t realize just _how_ well-endowed they meant until now. Though, she also didn’t have a point of reference, so she supposed her shock could’ve been exaggerated. 

“Aphrodisius...” She awkwardly jerked her hips to try and feel him better, whining when the odd position made it futile. 

“Oh, did you think you were getting something more?” Aphrodisius teased. “I told you, I can’t sleep with you.” He grinned at the sight of her exasperated horror. “The best I can give you is this,” He ground himself against her wetness, “and no more.”

Discordia groaned in frustration, “but, you’ve got me all worked up again! You can’t torture me like this!”

“Actually, I can,” Aphrodisius leaned forward to pin her arms down over her head, letting her hips to drop with him no longer supporting them. “I am a king, remember... and you are not yet queen.” Maybe it was mean to tease her this way, but he couldn't resist; it was just so natural for him to do so!

Discordia whimpered, but the fire in her only grew stronger under his intimidation. “C-Can I see it, at least?” She tried her best to appeal to his sympathy, but he looked expectant. “P-Please?” 

“Please...?” Aphrodisius was probably having too much fun with her, but he rationalized that as long as he wasn’t inside her, it was all fine. The fear of losing control dwindled, though, as he found himself losing a fight with his own lust. 

“Please... please, Your Majesty,” Discordia blushed hard, a little embarrassed to be acknowledging his title in such an improper place—also, hoping she had guessed correctly that he wanted to hear it. It would be more embarrassing if she was wrong.

“Good girl,” Aphrodisius released her arms and lowered himself down to give her a quick kiss. “I suppose it’s not too much to have just a bit more direct contact to _reward_ you... but, I’m still not penetrating you.” He then got up onto his knees and—making sure she was watching—jerked down his last article of clothing before raising his legs slightly to pull it off completely. It felt wonderful to finally have the restrictive cloth off, allowing his member the freedom he thought it deserved. 

Discordia’s eyes widened a bit at the sight of it; it _was_ above average, but she was less intimidated by the length than she was by how _thick_ it looked. She knew it would _fit,_ being no stranger to how female anatomy worked, but she wondered how long it would take for it to fit _comfortably._ Aphrodisius must’ve been amused by the look on her face, but rather than making a dumb comment as she’d expected, he repositioned himself between her legs and set it against her heat. Discordia wasn’t sure if it was solely for his own pleasure and teasing her, or if he was aiming to emphasize how big he was by making it even more apparent just how deep he’d be inside her. 

Which looked to be pretty deep.

“Is this enough for you?” Aphrodisius teased, but Discordia wasn’t exactly sure if he was talking about his size or asking if just setting his member on her was enough satisfaction for her. Her reaction would differ depending on which he meant. 

“I would hope so...” She still sounded desperate when she spoke and she found her needy gaze stuck on his shaft. “You’ll be gentle, though?” Her eyes darted up to him, nervous. 

Aphrodisius simply regarded her with surprise. “I didn’t say I was putting it in you, did I?” He chuckled, “I thought already told you—even if we’ve already gotten this far along—I want to save the main event for a better time.” 

_“Aphrodisius!”_ Discordia cried out in anguish, “you can’t act like you’re going to and then not do it!” Her voice turned into a sort of strained whimper, like the frustration he was causing her was almost enough to make her cry. It seemed like there were a lot of very simple things that could bring her to tears, the king was beginning to find. Aphrodisius just shook his head in response.

“If I can wait, you surely can,” he assured, reaching down and bringing her knees up so it was easier to keep a hold on her legs. “Likewise, you only wanted your little problem fixed, which I _did_ do; you’re lucky I’m even willing to tease you.” He grinned down at Discordia, while she continued to look up at him pleadingly. Maintaining eye contact, he slowly moved his hips to grind his shaft against her, slipping between her lips as he did so due to how wet she was. Aphrodisius was almost impressed with just how worked up she got that fast; there was a sizable damp spot between them and he could’ve sworn most of it was just from her laying there in her lust rather than her orgasm. 

Discordia instinctively tried to clamp her legs together, but Aphrodisius kept them apart. She let out an annoyed sound as he continued the motion, invoking that same feeling she often felt when she was trying to pleasure herself but couldn’t get anywhere with it; that annoying, almost painful feeling that made her want to reach down and make him give her what she wanted. The fog in her head cleared long enough for her to realize her hands were free—she could put up a decent fight with him...

_All I have to do is touch him, right? That can’t be_ that _hard,_ Discordia pushed down the insecurity she felt around her lack of experience. While Aphrodisius had his eyes shut, likely trying not to change his mind about keeping her for a “better time”, Discordia reached down her body with a shaky hand and wrapped it around the king’s member. She was delighted to see his eyes shoot open in surprise—not everyone could say they shocked the God of Allure and Lust. 

“What do you think you’re up to?” Aphrodisius quickly recollected himself to question her. 

“Taking what I want. Something you’re not very good at, apparently,” Discordia smirked, hoping that getting on his nerves would help her in her quest. She moved her hand as much as she could from where she was, but it wasn’t much; though, she supposed the tip was probably the most sensitive part, so maybe it didn’t matter that she couldn’t reach that far from her place laying on the bed. She thought she was doing a pretty decent job for what it was worth. Which wasn't much, if you asked for Aphrodisius' opinion. 'Taking what she wanted' was quite the bold claim for someone who didn't know what she was doing.

“Discordia!” Aphrodisius looked horribly offended. “I am restraining myself for you! You should be honored! I never try this hard!” It was clear he was attempting to hide whatever affect Discordia’s incredibly terrible handjob—if it could even be called that—was having on him, but she did notice his hips jerk involuntarily _at least_ once.

“Honored that a god whose most prominent ability is sleeping with people refuses to sleep with me, whom he apparently loves?” Discordia narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes, I’m _very_ touched.” She released him from her torturous grip and crossed her arms indignantly.

Aphrodisius blinked, bewildered. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that and you know it,” he moved to lay on top of her, quickly trying to kiss her right after, but Discordia moved her head further down into the pillow it rested on. Aphrodisius let out an aggravated sigh in response. “Oh, damn you, wicked witch! Why are you precisely my flavor? You make it beyond difficult to resist you!” 

“Wicked is a compliment where I’m from,” Discordia beamed, pleased to have broken his facade. “I didn’t know you liked when I disobeyed you, you should’ve said something earlier!” She giggled, wrapping her arms around him and dropping her own defiant act. 

Aphrodisius groaned and rested his head beside hers. “I admit it, I want you more than I can put in words, but are you certain you want this to happen here? I could make a much more romantic setup for us if you waited—“

“Aphrodisius!” Discordia whined, “I’m a mess, you can’t deny me when I’m like this!” She leaned her head against his and he turned to press his forehead against hers. "I wouldn't care if we were outside at this point! I need you more than _anything!"_

The king was somewhat impressed at how quickly she jumped to begging. “If you want me that badly—and I suppose I can’t blame you,” Aphrodisius sighed, “then I suppose I’ll allow myself this defeat.” He paused, sounding disappointed in himself. “Though, you must understand it will likely hurt a bit at first and you must tell me if you can’t handle it.”

“Mhm...” Discordia agreed, letting her body relax a bit, delighted to finally share in his element. “I can handle you, Aphrodisius. I’ll make sure I can.” She sounded relieved, almost. It was sort of amusing to him in a way. 

“I’ll remember that when you’re unable to use your legs tomorrow,” Aphrodisius smirked, “you overestimate how well your body will handle this first time. I assure you, you must encourage restraint in me if I’m too rough with you.”

“If you’re hurting me, I’ll tell you,” Discordia affirmed. “But, I think I can take it...” Excitement raced through her veins. She could hardly believe she’d convinced him to go further. Discordia didn’t think she was the most persuasive woman, though, so she presumed he must’ve been wanting her _VERY_ badly and only weakly resisting. Weakly resisting was more than no resisting, though, so she supposed that’s what he meant when he said he was _“trying”._

Aphrodisius pressed a kiss to her lips. “You’re a lot more confident now than you were before,” he reached back to pull her legs up and around his waist as he spoke, “whatever is the reason for that?” 

Discordia glanced away from his eyes as she answered, “o-oh, I don’t know,” her face lit up red a bit as she continued, “now that you mention it, I suppose I have been a bit pushy... I’m sorry, sometimes pieces of my past self tend to surface when I w—ah!” She had felt Aphrodisius doing something while she spoke, but she was startled to actually feel him putting pressure against her. He wasn’t really “in” her, just barely past her threshold when she noticed. Hearing her, Aphrodisius immediately stopped and was quick to start worrying over her.

“I apologize, did I hurt you? I should’ve warned you before I—“

“N-No, you just surprised me,” Discordia was embarrassed, especially now because she’d scared him. “You can continue...” She wrapped her arms around him and smiled nervously, hoping to reaffirm that it was okay. 

Aphrodisius seemed unsure, staring at her for a few more moments, before nodding gently and returning to the task at hand. He kept a careful watch on Discordia’s face; if she didn’t speak, he’d be able to guess how she was taking it from looking at her. She must’ve been embarrassed by it, though, because she soon shied away from his gaze, blushing and shutting her eyes as he attempted to enter her once more. He noted she seemed to stiffen a bit once the tip was in, but she didn’t appear to be in pain—probably just nervous.

“Relax,” Aphrodisius soothed, “it’ll hurt less if you can keep your muscles from tensing up.” He leaned in to kiss the side of her face as he continued, getting about a third of the way in when he felt her suddenly dig her nails hard into his back and tense up harshly. 

“S-Stay there,” Discordia’s voice sounded a bit strained, “it hurts a little...” She’d tried to relax, but it was difficult for her, so she resorted to clamping her legs around him tightly instead. Clawing him hadn’t been her intent and she eased up her grip on his back when she realized she might be hurting him, but if she was doing poorly, she thanked Aphrodisius for not talking down on her for it. 

Aphrodisius continued to press kisses against the side of her face, hoping to soothe whatever pain she felt. “Tell me when it lessens, okay?” He spoke softly into her ear, before adding, “or if you want to stop.” 

“Mhm,” Discordia nodded, letting her head sink into the pillow. “S-Sorry I’m taking so long...” She murmured, sure the king would grow impatient with her.

“I’d rather it not feel terrible for you,” Aphrodisius soothed, “I’ll wait as long as I have to, to make you happy.” He felt Discordia’s face heat up again as he finished and he smiled, hoping he’d reassured her. Another minute or so passed and Discordia seemed to have relaxed a fair amount. Aphrodisius wondered if she might be ready to continue, when she piped up again.

“I... think you can try again. Slowly.” Discordia’s legs squirmed around as she spoke, still nervous, but feeling as if she’d gotten used to the feeling enough. Aphrodisius mumbled his approval to her and began moving once again. 

The pace was painfully slow for the sex-addicted king, it was true. The wonderful feeling of being between her walls only worked to tempt him to his usual speed, but he knew he had to hold it back; he wouldn’t dare hurt her. Focusing on the feeling to try and distract him helped a tiny bit, but equal parts made it worse. Her warmth, how wet she felt, how almost painfully tight she felt, it was almost too much for him to bear—but still, he held himself back. For now, at least, slow was fast enough. 

He managed to get far enough in for anything to work before she was clawing at him again, much to his surprise. She was nervous, but she seemed to be either adapting very fast or putting in a good effort to take him. It seemed to him that it was a bit more enjoyable for her already, since he’d heard her make a soft sound at least once in the process. He wondered if there was any way he could get her to claw him without it being indicative of pain--he was a fan of the action.

“Tell me when you’re ready,” Aphrodisius—who had now raised himself up to support himself over her by his arms—looked down at her to speak. “I don’t have to be in you any more than this, so I’ll start moving out whenever you’re comfortable,” he informed. 

To his shock, Discordia was quick to answer with, “you don’t have to wait, in that case,” she seemed sheepish, looking away from him yet again, “I’m ready.”

“Not to question you,” Aphrodisius’ eyes were still wide, “but it will still hurt on the way out. Are you absolutely positive you want me to try so soon?”

Discordia simply nodded, like it wasn’t a big deal. “I know that, but it feels different! I thought I told you that already.”

“Fingering is different,” Aphrodisius argued, “this is something much bigger, the sensation will likely be a little more intense than you think—“

“Then just go slow,” Discordia countered, “I just said to start, not to go any faster. I promise you won’t hurt me.”

“And if I do?”

“You _won’t.”_

Aphrodisius didn’t seem confident, still, but knew better than to argue with her further—she seemed firm on her position. Slowly, and with extra care, he moved his hips back, keeping a close watch on Discordia as he did. Apparently, he should’ve listened to her, because she was reacting positively to it—her eyes rolled back and she groaned, putting a hand over her mouth as if to prevent herself from being too loud. 

_I thought that was supposed to hurt fairly bad,_ Aphrodisius thought. _Perhaps I underestimated the amount of pain she enjoys..._

“You don’t have to keep quiet,” he paused his movements for a moment, “I don’t mind at all if you’re loud.” 

Discordia rested her hand back on the bed, looking embarrassed. “Are you sure? I was really loud before...”

“I appreciate the more vocal types,” Aphrodisius shifted his weight to one side in order to press a hand to the side of her face. “Be as loud as you want.” 

Discordia nodded, obviously still embarrassed, but willing to try and push the feeling aside if Aphrodisius didn’t mind. She shut her eyes tightly as she felt him moving back in again, the same slow and easy pace he’d been practicing the whole time. It was a strange feeling—like she was being stretched, but only right at the entrance; he seemed to fit fine once past that barrier. However, she couldn’t help but feel she was getting most of her pleasure from the stretched feeling, in a weird way. It hurt, but it was dull and gnawing, and something about that sensation felt just as pleasant as it did painful. It didn’t feel bad at all anymore, so long as Aphrodisius continued being gentle and slow. 

Gently, Discordia reached up to press a hand against his cheek, grabbing his attention. “Can you be close to me again?” She asked, preferring the feeling of him laying right on her rather than raised above her; the pressure was comforting. He nodded and kissed her once he was repositioned, even going the extra mile to wrap his arms around her. She hadn’t realized just how focused he’d been and was surprised to see how red in the face he was already—she assumed it was from the effort he was making to make the act about her, since he was so used to everything being about him. The witch had to hold back a devious grin at the thought; this was probably a torturous pace for him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, letting out a moan as she felt him come into contact with that soft spot inside of her she’d felt earlier. He had much easier access to it now, so she hoped he’d use that to his advantage. 

Aphrodisius took this as a sign that perhaps he could try speeding up the pace just a bit. Discordia had relaxed considerably since the start of their encounter and he wasn’t feeling any extreme tension in her like he had before. He did a couple more slow motions of his hips, earning him the same reaction; if he hit that spot with just a bit more frequency, it’d be _perfect._ Though, he still couldn’t go overboard—he didn’t want to hurt her, still, and she lacked his stamina, so too fast would likely end all chances of him getting the same ending she did, anyway. 

Discordia whimpered and lightly clawed behind his shoulder blades, but it wasn’t a negative reaction. “Aphrodisius,” her voice sounded a bit breathy, “if this is too slow, you... could... ah... don’t let me limit you, I mean.” She was having a hard time thinking, too focused on the feeling that every inch of her was being worked over. Though, she did feel bad still for possibly limiting him—she knew he had higher standards than her in terms of sex. 

“This is fine,” Aphrodisius insisted, “I see you have a bit of a pain tolerance, but I don’t want to push that.” He himself was starting to sound a bit breathy as well, Discordia noted. “I can work fine at this speed, I promise.” 

Discordia wasn’t completely convinced. “If you say so...” She drug one hand down his back, slowly, but making sure he felt it. A small hint at just how much she believed that. She was a bit surprised to find, however, that Aphrodisius reacted to it; nothing huge, but he’d let out some type of soft sound and that was a lot more than what she’d been hearing previously, which was next to nothing. “You have a bit of a pain tolerance, too, huh?” She teased.

“Only for scratching and having my hair pulled,” Aphrodisius grinned, “I’m not sure I’m fond of any other type of pain in this setting.” He leaned in to kiss her deeply, which Discordia was happy to reciprocate. Her hands tangled in his long locks, begging for more of him. Aphrodisius found himself almost intoxicated by her touch, by the feeling of her lips on his. He’d been fending the haze off so well up until that kiss; it was as if then, he suddenly was hypersensitive to her presence; but more importantly, allowing his innate power to influence him made it more clear to him what she needed. 

He broke the kiss and gazed down at her longingly. “You know, Dissy, you’ve been awful talkative for someone who’s supposed to be _screaming,”_ he smirked when Discordia suddenly turned wide-eyed. He watched her then narrow her eyes at him, no doubt preparing a snarky comment to shoot back.

“That sounds more like a failure on your part, no?” Discordia grinned, apparently feeling confident about the jab.“Maybe you’re not as good at this as you think.” She was teasing, but Aphrodisius anticipated her saying something like that.

“Oh? You think so?” The king rose an eyebrow at her, “would this change your opinion?” His voice was low and gravely as he finished, suddenly quickening his pace—and depth—a bit more. The change caught Discordia off guard, prompting her to cry out and rake her claws down his back, all while tightening her grip around his waist with her legs. It hurt, though, not as bad as before; it was sort of like a numb pain... which as Aphrodisius’ “lust sense” had told him, was something she greatly enjoyed. 

“Aphrodisius!” Discordia cried out, running her nails up and down his back over and over again like he was a scratching post. The action only encouraged Aphrodisius further. He leaned in to kiss her face as he focused more of his attention on thrusting into her than thinking of witty comments to respond with. 

Discordia felt almost overwhelmed by the feelings of pleasure she was experiencing. The fog in her mind had devolved into being able to think only of the feeling of his body against hers and nothing more, apart from the numb, fuzzy feeling she was starting to feel in her legs and the burning, heavy feeling she felt between her hips. She was amazed at how wonderful it felt to meld against someone else; and how he somehow knew just how to both bother and pleasure her with just simple gestures. He was resting his head over her shoulder now, occasionally moving to kiss her or whisper something that would make shivers go down her spine. Discordia couldn’t help but wonder if he was getting tired, considering he was doing all the work. That, and she felt close to bursting with how much pressure was built up within her; it would be sort of embarrassing if she orgasmed _twice_ that night before he got a chance to _once._

Aphrodisius hated to admit it, but he was doing much better at the quicker pace. Discordia seemed to be enjoying herself a lot more, too, though, so he reckoned he should’ve just let loose the second she gave him the chance to. He could tell she was getting close; but he was a little too focused on _her_ status to think of _his._ It didn’t even come to his mind that he, himself, was starting to run out of steam—he wasn’t used to having such a perfect partner, even if Discordia was inexperienced. Still, she managed to be everything he could want in a sexual partner—she liked a bit of roughness; enjoyed both praise and punishment, presumably; was obedient when asked to be and defiant when she wanted; seemed to have a similar drive to himself; and she got used to everything pretty quickly. 

_She’s perfect... perhaps I was given a soulmate after all,_ Aphrodisius thought fondly of Discordia, but had his thought interrupted by a familiar scream accompanied by the tensing of muscles he recognized as her orgasm. She gripped him ever tighter as she went through her waves of pleasure, with Aphrodisius never letting up his pace to help her through. The feeling was incredible. The way her walls gripped him and the feeling of her wetness dripping between them, it was almost enough to drive him mad.  Aphrodisius gripped her tightly and picked up his pace, though he didn’t seem to be aware he did it. Discordia, sensitive from her release, cried out and almost just as quickly found herself tensing up around him again, crying out his name this time as if she felt embarrassed that he’d pushed her over the edge twice. Aphrodisius groaned into her ear, relishing in the wet sounds of their hips meeting, nearing his turn to finish. His head tried to convey a message to him—that he needed to pull out of her soon—but he couldn’t focus; all that mattered to him was clinging to her and giving her what she wanted.  Aphrodisius moaned loudly as he finally came, filling his lover with his essence, much to her surprise. Discordia marveled at the strange feeling of warmth suddenly shot into her; weird, but not unwelcome. She rubbed his back weakly, hoping it might help him relax as he jerked his hips into her haphazardly a few more times before stilling the motion. 

“Ah... hah... Discordia...” He sounded like he was trying to say something to her, but nothing other than mumbling and moaning seemed to be coming out of him. It made Discordia giggle, to see someone so well-spoken turned into a mess—and by her, nonetheless! The king continued to lay on her for a while after he finished, feeling heavy and tired as he moved his hips to pull out of her. They were silent for a while more, just breathing and basking in each other’s presence, before Aphrodisius broke the silence once more, “Ah... I apologize for that, Dissy. I lost control of myself for a bit there.”

“It’s okay,” Discordia spoke softly, “I enjoyed it. You don’t have to apologize for anything.” She ran a hand through his hair, comfortingly. Aphrodisius hummed in response, then suddenly rose himself to grab her and flip her on top of him, to her surprise. She felt so heavy and tired laying atop him, but happy as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. “Thank you, Aphrodisius...”

“Thank _you,”_ Aphrodisius countered her thanks. “You were wonderful; I’ve never slept with someone like you before,” he looked at her quizzically, “I’ve never felt it feel... as special, before. I feel more... fulfilled, almost.” He pondered his words for a moment more. "I don't think I've ever put so much thought and care into the act before; it felt strangely... more sacred than normal, being with you."

Discordia giggled and kissed his jaw. “Good. I was afraid I wasn’t doing a good job.” She cozied up to him as he squeezed his arms around her.

Aphrodisius chuckled softly, “fear not, you were wonderful, far more wonderful than any trivial one night stand I've had. I adore you,” he praised. “Though... I apologize for, ah, _filling you,_ per se.”

Discordia blinked, confused for a moment. “Oh! That’s fine, what’re the chances I’ll actually get pregnant, anyway?” She laughed, but Aphrodisius certainly found it no laughing matter.

“I’ve not actually taken any fertility tests,” Aphrodisius explained, “but... the... recent influx of children being born with incredibly perfect hair has convinced me that it may be... very high.” He seemed a bit embarrassed to admit this; it made Discordia wonder just how many of these fine-haired children were running around Ehmphyriat, then. When Discordia was silent, he continued, “if it is an issue, I do have rue—“

“No!” Discordia exclaimed sharply. She recoiled, “I-I mean, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” Nervousness washed over her, but she tried to remind herself that would be a problem for another day if something actually happened. 

Aphrodisius kissed her on the top of the head. “In that case, I’m sure whatever comes of this will be perfect,” he reassured, “whether they be a boy, a girl, or nothing at all.” 

“Well, if I had any say in it, I’d want a girl,” Discordia yawned. “I think I like the sound of “Princess Bellatrix Satana”,” she mused, "'Satana', because I sort of owe Baphomet the soul of my firstborn child," Discordia added, tired and nonchalant. Though, she cursed herself when she felt Aphrodisius tense up, realizing she'd hinted pretty heavily at her thoughts on his proposal.

“Princess, hm?” Discordia wasn’t looking at him, but she could tell what face he was making and she burned with embarrassment. “So, you’ve made up your mind?”

“I-It could’ve been a slip of the tongue,” Discordia stammered, upset with herself for ruining the suspense, “and it isn’t like I have much of a choice now either! If I end up pregnant with a boy, the Delusians would have me kill my own child and I can’t do that!” She exclaimed and Aphrodisius suddenly felt bad, feeling like he may have unintentionally backed her into a corner. “Either way, pretend you heard nothing until tomorrow!” She grumbled, shutting her eyes and hoping sleep would save her. 

“If Her Majesty demands it, I shall,” Aphrodisius chuckled, though inside, he was off the wall with excitement, already planning out their grand escape from the newly-formed Delusia-Rostille. “Goodnight, Discordia,” he spoke softly, though he suspected she may have already slipped into the realm of dreams. Gods didn’t have to sleep, but he’d make an effort for her—though, he wondered if his now-running mind would let him try.

He shut his eyes and sighed happily, knowing when he opened them, he would for certain be holding the woman would who would officially announce herself as his queen in his arms.  
  
  
  
...But then opened his eyes once more, suddenly confused. "What was that you said about owing a child's soul to Baphomet?" Aphrodisius queried, but Discordia was already asleep. Oh, well--that would be an issue for another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone makes horny comments I will delete this chapter, this is a warning. 
> 
> This wasn’t meant to be like “hot” by any means since it’s their first time together and it’s a given that it would be kinda awkward but if the “main event” feels lacking in comparison to the warm-up, consider that I am a lesbian and writing men in this type of situation is something foreign to me lmao


	7. The Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discordia makes her decision--formally--and she and Aphrodisius (and his courtiers) flee after the Delusians discover Discordia's betrayal quicker than estimated.

Aphrodisius turned his attention to the woman comfortably resting in his arms once she began to stir from her slumber. He’d been awake, guarding over her, for longer than he’d have liked to admit. It had been difficult for him to sleep, as unaccustomed to it as he was, and he knew she needed hers so he just... watched. He wouldn't have dared disturb her, anyway--she looked so peaceful, he wondered how mortals ever managed to wake up from such a state.

“Good morning, darlin’,” Aphrodisius murmured to her gently, “sleep well?” He tightened his grip around her bare form and smiled as he saw Discordia peer up at him sleepily through the curtain of her messy hair. She made a whiny noise and pressed her face back down against his chest, unwilling to let go of sleep just yet. Aphrodisius hid his amusement and continued, “how are you feeling?”

Discordia was silent for a moment and then answered, “...Good. But, my lower half feels somehow numb and sore at the same time.” She sounded tired, yawning after she finished. “I sort of feel... sticky... also.” The witch grimaced, hyper-aware of the feeling of dried sweat on her body. “I must be so gross... let me move off—“

“If you’re gross, then I’m just as much,” Aphrodisius stopped her as she tried to move. “I suspect you’d prefer to stay here, anyway, which is fine with me.” He grinned. “Speaking of staying...” he regarded her with interest, “what’re your thoughts on my offer? You promised me an answer when we woke.” The devious glint in his eye proved he already knew the answer, due to her slip last night; he still wanted the satisfaction of hearing her say it formally, though. 

Discordia blushed and shied away from him. “I think you already know... but, if you need me to be clearer,” she seemed nervous, though her mind had already been made up for some time, “I suppose it would be best for me to accept your proposal.” She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt him lean in to kiss her on the forehead. “Maybe it makes me naive to accept so quickly, but... I do like you, doll, and I think I’d be just as much a fool to deny myself the opportunity you’re giving me.” Saying it out loud, she felt a little more confident about her choice; it sounded different outside of her head.

“I don’t think you’re naive,” Aphrodisius rubbed her back as he spoke, “even if you come from such a horrible place, I understand that leaving behind everything you know is hard, especially when it’s in favor of taking on a very important role given your current one as a maid. I am glad to hear you’ve chosen me, though,” he beamed. “Ah, but... don’t feel pressured to call yourself my wife right away—I know this arrangement was rushed and you may need more time to feel comfortable with everything,” the king added before Discordia could respond. He suspected she'd have a hard time adjusting, so he was already thinking up ways to make it less stressful for her.

Discordia offered a nervous smile back and nodded, understanding. “So... what happens now? Do we just... leave?” She would be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit scared at the idea—if the Delusians realized what was going on, they’d hunt her down just as her mother’s hunting dogs used to chase down ducks and geese during the fall... and Delu'seer would probably watch the act with just as much joy as her mother used to when watching the dogs take down their prey.

Aphrodisius pondered the question for a moment. “Well, if we have time, I’d like to at least have breakfast before we do anything like that--speaking of which, is there anything you like? I’m sure I can request to have it brought up here.” 

“I like waffles with fruit and whipped cream. No bananas, though, I’m allergic.” Discordia answered, hoping the simple choice wouldn’t be looked down upon by the fancy king. 

“Banana allergy? I’ve never heard of that before,” Aphrodisius seemed interested, “perhaps I’ll have to study you a bit once we’re settled in at the castle.” 

“Was last night not a thorough enough study?” Discordia rose an amused eyebrow at him and he couldn't hold back his laughter. 

“My, Discordia, I suppose it _was_ quite thorough,” Aphrodisius gazed at her with lidded eyes, while using that same extra gravelly voice he used when he was flirting with her. “But, unfortunately, there are some parts of you I still can’t reach, even if we are joined; like your brain and blood.” He paused, before adding, “well... I hope I didn’t have any contact with your blood, I’d be upset with myself if I made you bleed.” In the moment, he hadn't even thought of the possibility, but now he was nervously curious if he'd caused her any damage during their rendezvous.

Discordia blinked at him, curiously. “That’s not supposed to happen? In Delusia, we were told that we should... bleed during... intercourse,” she seemed embarrassed to be discussing it, “because it was a spiritual release.” Aphrodisius looked partially horrified by this, so Discordia continued, “blood is a sign of many important things to the Delusians; it represents the freedom only death can offer and the release of agony, stress, and pain.” Once again, she was discussing the strange cult activities as if they were normal. 

Aphrodisius stayed silent for a moment before addressing her question. “Well... I wouldn’t say it’s _supposed_ to happen, but it can. I’m somehow not surprised the Delusians would find a way to romanticize the breaking of hymens...” 

“We learned all about that sort of stuff during sexual enlightenment lectures,” Discordia shrugged her shoulders. She then looked downward, as if trying to inspect for blood, but couldn’t see under herself with the blanket blocking the light. Aphrodisius watched her struggle, then rise to sit up on his lap, as he pondered what “sexual enlightenment lectures” might entail. He was taken from his thoughts by Discordia gasping as she turned around to look at the sheets below.

Aphrodisius furrowed his brow, “blood? I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I tried my best to be gentle with you.” He was disappointed in himself anyway; he presumed, though, that the blood came from closer to the end of the act. He was so sure that he had been very careful, at least for _most_ of the act.

“It’s okay, I know,” Discordia was quick to reassure him. “I hope the staff doesn’t have trouble cleaning that...” She felt a little embarrassed at the mess she and her partner had made. Though, she shouldn't have been surprised, given the messes she'd had to clean up for her fellow followers of Delu'seer in the past--sometimes it took _hours._

“Oh, who cares what the staff must do,” Aphrodisius waved her worries away with a hand, “certainly, they’re used to such things. This is an inn, after all.” He then smiled warmly at her, “which reminds me, we do have a private bath for our use—I’m sure you saw it before—how about we get a bit less sticky before we leave? I would agree that it's not a feeling I'm all that fond of.”

Discordia’s face turned a light shade of red. “Together?” 

“Is it not customary to bathe with others in Delusia? I know that’s not something _Prudence_ does, but Delusia has heavy Rostillian influence--which in turn has heavy _Ehmphyrian_ influence--in some aspects of its gruesome culture, so I assumed it was something practiced there as well.” Aphrodisius seemed surprised, but almost a bit embarrassed for apparently guessing wrong. The thought of NOT bathing with a handful of other people seemed weird to him. It sounded awful lonely.

“Oh, the Delusians do, but it’s usually in this thick blood-water mix. We supply the blood ourselves. And I’m rarely allowed to join them.” Discordia informed, though she added, sheepishly, “I rarely got an opportunity to bathe, if I’m completely honest...” She seemed extremely embarrassed, but it was understandable. "Even if I was allowed to join in, they'd often just look at me as if I disgusted them and then I'd feel awful about taking any part in their time."

Aphrodisius moved to sit upright before pulling her into a hug. “Well, you can bathe as much as you like once we’re—“

The suite door swung open as a frazzled-looking woman rushed in, interrupting, “Your Majesty! Our—“

“Countess Agave!” Aphrodisius howled as Discordia quickly threw the covers over herself in fear. “I should have you cast into the sea for this unwelcome intrusion!” He hissed, unleashing all of his fury on the horrified and embarrassed countess. The courtiers had a tendency to just burst in on the king unannounced--it was once of his biggest pet peeves and he sometimes contemplated dishing out the death penalty for the violation of privacy it happened so often, and always at such horrible times!

“M-My apologies, Your Majesty! I don’t mean to interrupt, but my chambermaid has—“ The woman tried to explain, only to interrupted by her furious king once more. 

“What could possibly be SO important that you would rip me of my private time with my beloved? I have waited long for this moment and yet YOU selfishly interrupt with what?” Aphrodisius asked incredulously, “local gossip? A menial complaint, perhaps? I can’t believe—!”

“THE DELUSIANS ARE COMING!” Agave managed to scream over him; she knew this was a great offense, but she’d rather him know of the danger and maim _her_ over potentially losing his new wife than maiming _everyone._

Discordia had been listening from her place under the covers, not understanding a single word since the two Ehmphyrians had been screeching at each other in what she assumed to be Greek, which she had no knowledge of. She did, however, understand the word “Delusian” and that was enough to cause her panic. It couldn't be that late in the day, could it? No one should've been sent to check on her quarters until _at least_ midday if there was a special event--like Concordia's visit--going on!

“Aphrodisius?” She piped up nervously from her place, “what’s wrong?”The witch peeked out from under the covers, prompting another word from Agave.

“Oh! Your Majesty, she truly is quite—!”

“Agave, what did your maid see and how close are they?” Aphrodisius interrupted her, having gotten over himself and now sounding much more serious. If the Delusians were coming to collect Discordia now, he’d have to think up something quick. He hadn’t heard Discordia speak, but he rested a hand on her back to feebly try to comfort her. It truly seemed that for everything that went right, something else would have to go wrong; a strange balance of good and bad cursed him with Discordia in his presence, and, for a split second, he was reminded of Discordia's memories of the deity Baphomet. He hadn't considered it before, but for that second he wondered... was she still paying back the imbalance between the two forces? The king quickly expelled the thought--that couldn't _possibly_ be why and he silently reprimanded himself for such foolish thinkings.

“Multiple Delusian cultists at the edge of the Whispering Woods,” Agave answered quickly, “headed by Dread Queen Seraphina,” she added. 

“Ah, yes, I didn’t expect Delu’seer to care enough to go herself, but that just gives us more of an advantage,” Aphrodisius nodded. “So, they haven’t crossed the ocean yet?”

“No, Your Majesty. Not at the time they were observed.” 

“Good, that gives us time.” Aphrodisius was still confident in his ability to get his party out unscathed. “Now, I need you and the other courtiers to hook your carriages up to mine—the Duke should know how to accomplish this--but, know that if you mess up, you WILL be left behind and you WILL die." He threatened. "There isn’t enough time anymore to fuel the power cells and the lightning steeds will have to pull everyone home together and connected; this task is all I ask of you and I trust you can see it through, with your heads on the line and all. Go, now!” He ordered and the countess rushed out of the room to inform her circle. 

Once Agave was gone, Aphrodisius turned his attention back to his nervous lover. He felt a pang in his chest to see her looking up at him fearfully, confused and shaking with anxiety. He pulled her up gently to sit on his lap once more--Discordia having sunk below his chest to hide--and carefully explained, “it appears your former associates have been made aware of your absence and we will have to leave as quickly as possible.” The king tried his best to keep his tone level, not wanting to frighten her further. "Sera is with them, so I'm sure they mean to use deadly force to get you back--but, I'd like to think that Sera's easier to deal with than Delu'seer."

“I w-was afraid you’d say that,” Discordia looked sorrowful. “Perhaps you should just...” Her voice cracked as she spoke, but Aphrodisius would let her speak no further, knowing where she was going to go with her thought process. 

“I will not leave you behind!” He interrupted, sounding horrified at the thought. “I came here to court you, not abandon you the second things got difficult! As far as I’m concerned, you are an Ehmphyrian now, and I will _NOT_ let ANY Delusian, including the royals, get in the way of that.” The king spoke firmly, hoping to instill some sense of hope in her. 

Discordia wiped at her eyes, still looking anxious. “Oh, but I’ll just slow you down! I’m so sore, I don’t know how well I can get around, and the only clothing I have to wear is my dress from last night and your robe! I’ll either be extra stiff wearing the dress or too indecent to leave this room!” She began to cry, horrified at the idea of what would happen to her if Delu’seer got her grip on her after this. Surely, she’d drag her off to foreign territory, away from the forest and burn her alive in a pit of rotting corpses of earlier defectors! 

Aphrodisius would be lying if he said Discordia’s crying wasn’t worsening the stress of the situation, but he didn’t let it show. “Hush, Dissy, I promise everything will be fine,” he tried desperately to calm her, “worry not about your mobility, I will carry you to my carriage if I must—and we still have about 45 minutes! Can you not whip up something to wear in that amount of time? The daughter of the master seamstress must certainly be skilled enough for such a task!” Aphrodisius hoped his encouragement would motivate her, but Discordia still looked distraught.

“I’ve nothing to sew!” She cried, “how am I to make an outfit with no fabric?” Her arms gripped him ever tighter as she grew more and more upset; Aphrodisius needed a way to remedy this fit quickly if they were to stay on time. The king went over the options. 

_She could use the bedsheets!_ He thought, but quickly dismissed it. _Oh, no, they’re covered in bodily fluids in a few spots and that certainly won’t work..._ the king hummed in thought as he looked over the room until his eyes landed on the fine curtains hanging around the nearby window. _That’s it!_

“What about the curtains?” Aphrodisius suggested. “They look to be an opaque fabric covered by a sheer silk, surely that would be enough to make a more comfortable temporary dress out of?” 

Discordia looked wary of the idea, but sniffled and wiped at her eyes before nodding. “I-I can try,” she didn’t sound too hopeful, but the idea that she was willing to try was enough for Aphrodisius. 

“Excellent!” He praised, resting a hand on her cheek comfortingly. “Allow me to get dressed and I’ll toss those over to you,” he moved his hand down to press gently into her side, lightly urging her to get off of him. Discordia nodded and crawled off, right away going to the edge of the bed for her bag which sat beside it to procure her sewing needle. She would feel the curtains land on her back before she even got back upright. 

Aphrodisius was in the process of putting on his clothes when he heard a gasp from behind him. He turned his head to question Discordia, “is something wrong with the curtains?”

“N-No, Aphrodisius, your _back!”_ She looked horrifically embarrassed, covering her face in shame. “You should’ve told me I was hurting you! Half the blood on the sheets must be from you alone!” Discordia cried. 

Aphrodisius sighed in amusement and shook his head. “Oh, Dissy, believe me, if you were hurting me, I’d have told you. In fact, I believe I told you the opposite, remember?” He pulled his shirt on as he finished. “Worry not about what will heal and much about what will take most of our time,” he gestured to the curtains in Discordia’s grip as he grabbed his goggles, but remembered something important upon trying to look through them. “Ah, that’s right...” He inspected them in his hand, seeming displeased. “I would have taken them off, had I known we’d have to leave like this.” 

Discordia blushed harder from her place on the bed, the curtains bundled up in front of her vulnerable form. “I’m sorry...” Considering the goggles were sticky with _her_ fluids, she felt responsible for wasting more of their time—more than she already had, at least. This was disastrous! She’d tore up his back AND blinded him on top of being a burden! The witch felt tears welling up in her eyes once more as she prepared to embarrass herself further.

Aphrodisius shook his head, quick to comfort her before she started wailing again. “No, no, no, I wouldn’t blame you for a mistake that is most certainly mine,” he insisted; his courtiers would’ve been shocked to see how many times he had been admitting to mistakes in the past few hours. “I will just rush to the nearest water source--that isn't the ocean--and return to you with them clean.” He made it sound like a simple task, but Discordia knew there was no way it could be.

“Aphrodisius!” She cried out, distressed. “You can’t see well enough to be running around without help!” Surely, he’d be able to find his way around eventually, but she was sure he didn’t want to be embarrassing himself due to his lack of clear sight. 

Aphrodisius grumbled, having momentarily forgotten his horrific vision. “Nonsense, I will ask one of my courtiers to guide me!” He seemed confident in this plan. “Secretly, of course. I won’t have common folk thinking I can’t get around,” he added—and by that, he meant his plan involved not asking for help and he was lying to make her feel better about him running around half-blind. “You just keep working on those curtains and I’ll be back—and able to see—in no time.” The king reassured, then dashed out the door, closing it with a short gust of wind thrown behind him. 

Discordia stared at the door nervously for a split second before wincing as she heard what could only be the sound of a six-foot-tall man missing the first step and falling down a flight. She managed to giggle a bit at the thought, but then reminded herself she needed to work. The fabric was ornate, just as everything else in the suite; it wasn’t really her style, but she was sure she’d be able to think up something... though, it was proving difficult as minutes passed and she simply sat there staring at it. 

_Okay... what would mother do?_ She asked herself, tracing a finger up the length of the material. _She always used to shut her eyes and let her hands guide her, but that was with magic thread involved... it can’t be the same when only physical material is involved..._ Discordia furrowed her brow with thought, frustrated. _I have no other option, I guess. Maybe it’s worth a try? If I truly am a good seamstress, this type of thing should come naturally to me!_

Taking a deep breath, Discordia tried to clear her mind and visualize something, anything dress-like. Even a vague shape or style would be enough. In her thought, she leaned over the side of the bed once more to grab her mother’s famous scissors—they may have been drained of magic, but they’d still cut through normal fabric just fine. Then, as if a wall had been toppled over in her mind just by resting her hands on the cold silver, she had it. The image of the perfect dress materialized in the back of her mind, in a style similar to what would be common in the south—maybe Aphrodisius would be fond of it if she pulled it off...

Then, it was like she was in autopilot. Cutting and crafting the fabric in her image with a determination she hadn’t felt in years; Discordia had thought the magic of sewing had abandoned her for good once she got wrapped up with the Delusians, but perhaps being free from them had reignited the spark within her. Her focus was uninterrupted by the suite door opening to announce Aphrodisius’s return, now able to see clearly with his goggles in tow. He may have tried to greet her, but she was deaf and blind to all but her work.  The king was not fond of being ignored, but he figured he’d better just stand back and watch, in case interrupting her ruined the chance of her being able to finish the outfit in time. He was fascinated with just how deep she was into the act; like nothing else was happening in the world around her. He wondered if her mother shared that same discipline and if that was how she managed to become so famous for her work--no, she _must_ have. Nevertheless, Aphrodisius was sure that he must’ve been watching the greatest seamstress alive at work right in front of him. Silent—for once—he came to sit beside her on the bed, regarding her fondly for a moment before turning his eyes back to her busy hands. He noted she seemed to work in a similar way to how he did when it came to a new invention; as if nothing else existed in the world but the task at hand; he found it admirable. 

The dress came together quite quickly for what it was—intricate, yet simple. After about 25 minutes of dead-silent work—only interrupted by the attention-hungry Aphrodisius making quiet comments in hopes of getting a response—Discordia’s creation was complete. She beamed with pride at her work for the first time in a long, long while. Aphrodisius felt a warm feeling in his chest watching her, as if her happiness flowed off of her in waves and caught him in the mix. 

“It’s lovely, given our time limit,” he rested a hand on her shoulder as he broke the silence, “but, I’m sure it’d look lovelier on you.” 

Discordia blushed and laughed softly, nodding once before pulling the new garment over her head to slip it on. Once it was on, she felt a couple of errors caused by her rush—it was a little tight in a few places, but still better than her dress from the night prior. A few stitching issues were present, but nothing that couldn’t be dealt with later. 

“What do you think?” She turned to Aphrodisius and was startled to feel him suddenly pull her in for a kiss. The witch happily leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck as they wasted precious time on each other. 

“You look perfect,” Aphrodisius complimented once the kiss was broken. “I see the southern influence; the style suits you.” The king released her and stood up, glancing out the window and grimacing as he was suddenly reminded of the time. “Now, darlin’, we’d better get out of here before your old friends show up; they’ll be here any minute if the information Countess Agave gave me was correct.” He walked to the other side of the bed and offered Discordia a hand, knowing she was sore and might need it. 

Discordia nodded, suddenly looking nervous again at being reminded of the urgency. She allowed Aphrodisius to pull her to her feet and she gripped onto his waist for support when her legs nearly buckled under her own weight, still feeling like jelly from before. “Could you help me get all of my stuff into my bag?” She asked, reaching down to grab the heavy object and sling it over her shoulder where it belonged. The bag was then filled with her folder of failed experiments, her scissors and sewing supplies, and her old clothes. What was in the bag now was really all she needed, thankfully, and she didn’t mind having to abandon the rest of her less important belongings in Delusia. Discordia noted that Aphrodisius had no luggage—at least not anymore.

_That must’ve been the arrangement he made last night,_ she thought. _His courtiers must’ve come in during the night and loaded his things into one of the carriages already. Smart._

“Is that all?” Aphrodisius asked and Discordia nodded, moving her grip from his waist to his arm so he could guide her out of the suite. “Then off we are!” He gave her a quick nod and hurried her out of the room and down the steps... which took longer than Aphrodisius would’ve liked. Especially with Discordia insisting for him to be careful not to 'trip and fall again' when that _CLEARLY_ never happened and he had _NO IDEA_ what could’ve made her think that he could’ve _POSSIBLY_ made such a _foolish_ and unregal mistake like tripping down the stairs. They made it down safely, though, and the pair stopped for no one in the lobby before rushing out the door, where they were surprised to find the courtiers surrounded by a handful of unconscious guards.

Aphrodisius was, at least. They must've had an issue while he was running around without eyes elsewhere. Discordia, on the other hand, was a bit in shock at how bright the sun was and was having difficulty adjusting to the massive amount of light. It almost amazed her; it had been so long since she’d properly seen the sun...

“You were ambushed?” Aphrodisius queried his court, once again speaking in his native tongue. The group stopped what they were doing immediately to address him. 

“The tabaxi posted here were suspicious and brought a group to investigate us, so, in a way, yes.” One of the men in the group answered. “They didn’t delay our progress, though,” he gestured to the carriages, all hooked up in the specific way Aphrodisius had demanded them to be. 

“Thank you, Duke Hypatos,” Aphrodisius nodded to him and then turned to Discordia. “Come,” he led her to the most ornate of the carriages at the front of the line, “everything is prepared and we will be out of this nightmare in no time at all,” he soothed, opening the carriage door and urging her inside. 

Discordia was impressed at how fancy he’d managed to get the inside of the already extremely impressive carriage—gears and wires ran among gold and brass designs, as if they were all meant to be together and not just the clashing parts of a machine covering a grandiose work of art. In front of each carriage was a group of four metallic horses, though Aphrodisius’ set seemed much fancier than the others. Discordia was fascinated with them; made completely of metal, gears, and wire--devoid of life, but still apparently functioning! 

Aphrodisius noticed her amazement and nudged her to grab her attention. “They took a very long time to get to this point,” he sounded proud of his achievement. “They’re still not great with sharp turns, but I trust you’ll be amazed by how closely they behave to living horses once they’re powered up. Speaking of...” the king pulled off his gloves and set them on the seat beside Discordia. He rested one hand on the reigns—probably a precautionary measure—and opened up a small compartment on his side of the carriage to reveal an area likely built to store power. Discordia figured based on how the compartment was shaped that Aphrodisius must put his magic in some sort of container that was supposed to fit in a matching slot, which somehow drew the magic out and powered the machine. It was a very interesting process, even if she wasn’t sure if she was right—either way, she was curious to see what the carriage would be like when powered as it was supposed to be.  Aphrodisius reached into the compartment and pulled down a metal rod from the top—probably what guided the magic out of whatever was supposed to be put in there. He clenched a fist around it and Discordia watched in amazement as his magic began to flow into the machine. The gears and wires inside the carriage came to life, turning and making peculiar noises as everything got to working order. Outside the carriage, the metallic stallions which were once stiff as boards began to move around, almost like Aphrodisius’ magic had given them consciousness.

“Aphrodisius, this is amazing!” Discordia exclaimed, forgetting the fear she’d been harboring minutes before. “They look and act so...” she struggled to find the right words, “real! Just like real horses!” It made her think back to a time when she was very young and her grandmother D’Anglarr—famous for racing horses—was still around. She had been too young to remember much of her, but she did remember the old witch’s familiar, a proud-looking unicorn who, as far as the officials in Prudence had believed, was just “in costume” all the time. She wished she’d been born just a little bit earlier, sometimes; her mother had always told amazing stories of D’Anglarr’s achievements.

The king beamed, “they’re modeled after the _terribly old_ but precious royal steeds, the ones my grandmother was paraded around by when she was reigning queen.” He explained, “I wanted these copies to be just like their living counterparts, so I studied their behavior. Implanting that behavior into a machine, though, was no easy task. Many, many failures before they were even half-decent.” Aphrodisius poked her nose in jest, “as failures are a normal part of the creative process. Can you imagine if I would’ve just shoved these into a “failure folder”?” 

Discordia giggled, “I guess you have a point. I wish I was as confident as you are, maybe I wouldn’t give up so easily, then...” She pursed her lips and crossed her arms, semi-frustrated with herself. 

“Do not discount yourself,” Aphrodisius reprimanded lightly, “you are just as brilliant as I am. I’m sure that once I get you home, you’ll have a much easier time pushing through whatever blocks you're having.” He offered her a smile, but the mood was interrupted by an _unfortunately_ familiar voice. 

_“APHRODISIUS!”_ The harsh, angry voice of Seraphina split through the air like an arrow through a leaf. “You BASTARD, release our handmaiden or else! We know you have her captive!” 

Sure enough, it sounded like the Delusians were right around the inn, running at them full-speed and ready to fight for Discordia back... but, so was Aphrodisius. 

“You’ll have her over my dead body, Seraphina!” Aphrodisius yelled back, “she’s mine and you’re not going to lay even a single breath in her vicinity again!” With that, he snapped the reins and the horses were off, jolting the line of carriages forward with a surprising amount of speed. That is partly what they were built for, however, and Aphrodisius was pleased to be gaining distance on the Delusians already. In the back of his mind, he found himself puzzled at the notion that he’d “captured” Discordia, though. How they came to that conclusion, he couldn’t grasp, but he supposed it was better for his lover if they believed that if, for some reason, he failed. 

Discordia clung to him desperately, back to her fearful self. Shakily, she managed to pipe up, “A-Aphrodisius?”

“Yes, darlin’?” The king jerked the reins hard to dodge a violent, green-hued blast of magic—a scream of agony confirmed it was from Sera’s hand. 

“P-Please, don’t be so mean to S-Sera about taking me,” Discordia looked pleading, “she’s v-very sensitive about—“

“Why should we care about the feelings of these cruel cultists?” Aphrodisius exclaimed, quickly poking his head out the window of the racing carriage to check on the courtiers, who were fighting back as best as they could, countering blasts of magic and various thrown weapons with their own. “Seraphina only wishes to drag you back into that nightmare forest, she would not extend the same kindness to you if your places were switched!” He didn't mean to come across as harsh, but it did seem that way to Discordia. She lowered her head sadly. Aphrodisius was probably right in that regard. She felt a softness for Sera she didn’t feel for the other cultists, but even if this softness was returned, it surely wasn’t in the same capacity—Sera tended to come across as selfish, though Discordia knew she probably didn’t mean to and had her reasons. Still, she felt horrible about leaving behind Sera specifically. Discordia knew how she felt about being left behind or left out; it filled her with more agony than anything Sera's physical ailment could give her and, now, Discordia was the one supplying that pain. 

To the only person she had ever considered a friend, outside of Pallas when she was younger.

_I am sorry, Sera,_ Discordia thought to herself as she allowed a tear to fall down her cheek. _Though you will never forgive me for this betrayal—and I don’t blame you—I am sorry. But, just as much, I cannot stay here._ She wiped her eyes and peeked out the window of the carriage, daring to glance at what she was leaving behind. The Delusians were pretty far away now, though still launching attacks, but she could still identify each face. Her chest tightened painfully when she accidentally caught Sera’s eye, full of hate and agony from her place on her knees, doubled over in pain from the ghastly crystalline growths broken through her skin--a side effect from her use of magic. Discordia turned away, unable to bear her harsh judgment. It wouldn’t be too long before she would be too far away to see, anyway...

“Discordia?” Aphrodisius drew her out of her thoughts after a few minutes of silence, “are you alright? It appears we’ve lost them, for now.” He seemed cheerful and Discordia tried to smile, forcing the guilt she felt about abandoning Sera to the back of her mind. The courtiers were cheering from their carriages, marking their successful escape—at least for now. The Delusians would probably find a way to catch up to them later, he didn't doubt. 

“It feels weird,” Discordia sighed. “To be free of... away from them,” she corrected. “I don’t know what to think,” she crossed her arms as if to try and hide her vulnerability. 

Aphrodisius seemed to understand, nodding. “I’m sure. But, you’ll fit in well back home, I promise. You’ll feel much better and it’ll be as if your time in Delusia never happened!” He seemed much more confident in Discordia than she was in herself. 

Discordia smiled weakly. “I hope so...” The gloom still clung to her words. She knew this was better for her, but she wished there was a way she could’ve gone through with it without hurting her only friend. The fact that she hadn't even considered how Sera would feel about her leaving the entire night made her feel even worse.

_Former friend,_ she corrected, painfully. Sera wouldn’t forget this and either way, Aphrodisius likely wouldn’t have allowed the friendship to continue anyway due to being at war with Delu’seer. 

Aphrodisius felt sympathy for her, feeling a bit bad for being so harsh when she mentioned Sera to him earlier. Though, in his defense, he was too distracted by the skirmish to really think his words over better. He couldn’t comprehend someone like Sera having friends, but if Discordia cared for her in any capacity—and he knew she did—he probably couldn’t change her mind on it and it wasn't worth disputing. _How to make her feel better..._ he picked his brain for something that might cheer her up. Then it came to him.

“I know you’re probably not in the mood to be talking about anything formal, but, would you mind reaching into my pocket Discordia?” He asked, getting a bewildered look from Discordia. “I think you’d like to see the ring I commissioned for you?” He added, hoping to clarify the odd question, but found it humorous that she was starting to think just a little bit like him.

Discordia brightened up a bit and reached into Aphrodisius’ pants pocket to retrieve a small box. She probably should’ve noticed it there earlier, but she had been under the impression the odd bulge may have been from _something else._ Pushing the impure thought aside, she opened the box to reveal the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen. The band was the same brassy color as Aphrodisius’ choker, but it was covered in intricate designs, like roses and webs, when looked at closely. In the middle was a deep blue gem, perfectly polished and probably the highest grade possible, knowing how Aphrodisius' tastes worked. 

“It’s beautiful!” Discordia gasped, “I would’ve been thankful for something much plainer than this!” She was touched by the level of detail—especially the inclusion of the web-like designs, which reminded her of her mother’s long-gone familiar, a crystalline tarantula named Glass.

Aphrodisius grinned, though kept his eyes ahead, lest he lost control of the carriage and allowed the Delusians to catch up to them again. “I wanted something that truly captured what I thought of you,” he explained, “something simple wouldn’t do and I know that for sure now. You’re very complex and you’ve much to offer the world—very beautiful, too.” He noticed Discordia blush out of the corner of his eye. “I hope that the ring encapsulates that enough; we can always have it worked on more if it’s not to your liking,” Aphrodisius ended. 

“No, no, it’s perfect! I couldn’t ask for more!” Discordia slipped the ring on slowly, oddly nervous about the act for some reason. “I think you did a wonderful job reading me, asking for it to look like this.” She reassured. 

Aphrodisius sighed with relief. “I’m glad you like it,” a devious grin then pulled onto his face, “but, be ready, because that’s not all I’ll have to give you once we reach the palace. I can’t wait to shower you in all the luxuries you deserve,” he let out an amused chuckle, “whether you want them or not.” 

Discordia leaned against him and sighed in slight amusement, almost thinking he was going somewhere else with that comment. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to that, then...” she trailed off happily as Aphrodisius began to go on and on about everything he wanted her to have and how much he treasured her—she caught something about keeping her face a secret from the general public until the day they were wedded, among other ideas for what would surely be one of the most grandiose wedding arrangements in Ehmphyrian history. Suddenly, she felt a little more optimistic. She should be excited about her new life, not stuck on the past—this was a chance to finally move on from what had weighed on her so heavily before. This was prime time to get back up on her feet and work, just like she did before her mother passed. 

As nervous as she was, she could push that to the back of her mind for now—maybe being queen wouldn’t be so bad...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd it's done! This was longer than I ever intended it to be, but I figured I'd better cut it off here before I accidentally detail the entire history of their reign up until canon lmao. Sorry if this chapter is a little lame, I rolled better during the skirmish than I thought that I would,,, for both sides but the Ehmphyrians had an unfair advantage either way. THOUGH, the Delusians were bound to fail even if I rolled extremely well for them, due to fate just not favoring them... and fate not favoring them may have something to do with Cordia and her powers/duty to her (demi)godly role. BUT that is something I might write a short thing for later. 
> 
> Also before anyone asks why Delu'seer didn't just take possession of Dissy's body, it's because she didn't know precisely where she was/she wasn't in the forest and it's draining for her to use that specific power outside of it. And like Aph said, Delu didn't care THAT much, she only was mad because losing one of her cultists to a man (ESPECIALLY Aph) is a huge embarrassment and makes her look weak; also, she KNOWS Discordia has the means to be successful if she tries and putting her and Aph together could be detrimental to the entire WORLD due to their ambitious inventions/Aph being power-hungry (and Discordia is too just not... outwardly) 
> 
> Oh and unrelated note but since I acknowledge the Ehmphyrians' first language is Greek--I type Aphrodisius saying "darlin'" instead of "darling" because he's going out of his way to make it sound like that and it DEF is not his natural accent (and typing this in the way everyone's accents sound would be,,, hard to understand lmao) and he actually probably would be pronouncing it more like "da'lin'" but w/e, I could go on about these people's accents for HOURS. Also I should've mentioned this in the chapter it happened but Aphrodisius calls Discordia's (Boston) accent "funny" sounding because she ends up saying his name like "Affa-dissy-us" instead of "Aph-ro-dee-zi-us" and he thinks that's hilarious,,, and that's why in current canon she will more often call him Aph, because she eventually found out he was making fun of her skskjksjks but in current canon, ALL the Ehmphyrians sort of (privately) make fun of her (and her kids') accent because it's still somewhat present even after she learns Greek. And her kids' teachers BEMOAN the fact that she taught them how to speak because they could never "correct" their pronunciation--*fun facts*

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a oneshot but it got too long, whoops. Also, Cordia, you know the demigoddess responsible for matchmaking, was making that face for a reason! And yeah Discordia is very impulsive/makes rash decisions so if it looks like she changes her mind very quickly... that's just her. Also, I want to specify Aph absolutely is in love with her/having a "love at first" sight experience, Discordia at this current moment in time is kinda just lusting, she's def not IN LOVE with him YET
> 
> But Aph's intentions ARE pure, even if he's doesn't really know how to go about it the best? He's used to the good ol' smash and pass so trying to get a permanent partner is new territory for him and he's unwilling to admit it's not as easy
> 
> Anyway follow me on twitter (tellie_vision) and/or tumblr (tellie-vision-art) if you like this stuff and want more on these characters


End file.
